A Holiday Poem

Misfit Dolly

You seem to be in
good shape,

no arms or legs
missing.

Your singing voice
is lovely.

You are not a
water pistol

that mistakenly squirts
jelly, or a jack-in-the-box

with a misnomer,
or a sexually-ambiguous elf

denounced for his passion for
dentistry.

Why, then, are you
crying, Dolly?

And, more important,
what are you doing

on our island?

(Crying dolly still from this classic, if you didn’t already know.)

3 thoughts on “A Holiday Poem

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