Volume 1, May 1996
She came in a wooden box.
Her hair was curled
around her smooth cheeks,
her celluloid legs were jointed
and she could talk.
At first they dressed her up,
sat her in the best chair,
and sought admiration
for her fragile perfections.
But they soon returned
to the red coated soldiers,
to the striped and knitted golliwogs,
and the stuffed bears of uncertain sexuality.
Now the lid is closed
on her fixed smile,
and bright insects crawl,
like jewels, on her vapid face.
CRICOS Code: 00126G