To Be Hollow

Store window mannequins—they have been made toovercome our limitations:our bent for blemishes,our lack of proportion,symmetry; our frailty inbruising, aging; our want tosnarl, to bawl; ourrestlessness and smells.

But they are punished for it:stripped naked in public,we see what they lack—no body hair but woven matsfor eyelashes; no nipples;undetailed mounds wheresex should be; swivels for ajoint; toes that will not part.

Their bouts of unblinkingloveliness between the torment:wigs snatched away andheads removed, stacked in acorner; limbs twisted off orbent to breaking angles.

They are sleepless, unable todie—only to be superseded forfashion's sake. Where do theold mannequins go? In whatroom are they pressed togethereye to eye and left—