Disengaged
I don’t let anyone inside
if they don’t reveal who they are.
I hide in my closet and wait
for them to leave a mannequin
in front of my garage or throw
stale bread across my lawn.
I won’t eat it because I’m not a pet.
The latest mannequin doesn’t have a mouth
so it won’t consume the bread either.
I pull off its head, toss most of its body
inside a garbage bin. I remove
the two arms, keep them disconnected
in my bedroom, against the wall,
beside my bookcase, facing the opposite angle
away from the previous mannequin parts.
That way the eyeless fingers cannot see
or directly attach themselves to my broken past.
I can view the remnants I choose to keep.
Juliet Cook doesn’t fit inside an Easy-Bake Oven and rarely cooks. Her poetry has appeared in a peculiar multitude of literary publications. She is the author of numerous poetry chapbooks, most recently including “red flames burning out” (Grey Book Press, 2023), “Contorted Doom Conveyor” (Gutter Snob Books, 2023), “Your Mouth is Moving Backwards” (Ethel Zine & Micro Press, 2023), “REVOLTING” (Cul-de-sac of Blood, 2024), and “Blue Stingers Instead of Wings” (Pure Sleeze Press, 2025). Her most recent full-length poetry book, “Malformed Confetti” was published by Crisis Chronicles Press. You can find out more at https://julietcook.weebly.
