Dr. Frankenstink Crafts His Whimsy
Fixated on fashioning life with unliving things,
He falls in love with Whimsy, codifies her, imbues her
With the stench of personality that he can sleep with
Without sleep cocking her to unconsciousness.
Rummage, rummage the trash heaps,
The garbage bins, the dumps,
And rotting flow of swill and sewage—
Whimsy takes her ungodly shape:
Big cardboard box head
Empty except for butt
Of chamber pot for mouth.
Needle-nose pliers for a snout.
Cash register $ $ for eyes.
Short stature in height
But makes up for it in width.
Mold-speckled cabbage leaves cover
Her big cardboard box head.
Broken wine bottles about her neck.
Her huge tree-stump legs mock
The act of walking.
Flea collar of rabid dog around each wrist.
Barrel-drum arms that rub against
Shag fecal-smattered carpet glued
Against her sides. Faking a dress,
Monstrous cum-stained sheets swaddle
Her middle region—
More an equator than a waist—
Drooping down over the stumps,
Flowing with blood and urine onto the ground.
Dr. Frankenstink loves his Whimsy,
Locks her in his arms, croons to her
A misbegotten lullaby that reminds him
Of his murdered fiancée, after her last abortion.
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