2007-04-20
Bite my lip, Henry Biggins
I was working in the toy library, repairing the hair and nails,
The feet and wheels, the parts that children can batter like nothing else.
One would think “How much damage can they do in a week?”
(This was length of the lending policy)
Still my work was endless, the toys piling up in sorted piles
So that the sad dolls lay akimbo, hands and feet all grubby
My first job was always to give them a good bath.
But the dolls were not my favorite,
I found the most pleasure in returning wheels to their spin,
In making toy trains and cars and planes spin and swoop again.
The trolley was running late, and I had run to the stop
In the hopes of making it home before my sister,
Who would no doubt commandeer the radio.
Yes, I was careless
my shoes no match for the cobblestones
The heel of my shoe busted and there was Biggins,
Big as life, big as his name, big as bluster,
Offering to carry me home in his automobile.
The zeppelin was due in town tomorrow
My ankle hurt, but I did not want to give this man
The pleasure of knowing me.
I refused to aknowledge him, and he leaned in, gentle as a hummingbird,
and bit my lip.