Timothy’s Toys


Crinkle expression
scrunchy-eyed one with pink antennae
that glow sucked toothless
as limpet, parrot-tongued
the alphabetical beak squeaks
security, this Wal-Mart
labour-drain, sewn
to distract gripe or over-
tiredness, piercing
blue eyes changeable
as days slurp and orally
fixate, to sample
like whiskers seeing, or the platypus’s
bill beneath the surface, drool and dribble,
a liquid self, caterpillar scrunches, crinkles,


Scoff the web-foot of rotation, the bright
emoticon facing the world of the rug,
to almost roll towards a clockwork
rubber duck song, timpanic and bridgeless
to reach across, as toes to mouth,
and duckie there, assuredly giggly,
tipping over and singing on,
oh duckie, duckie, almost
close enough to reach,
yellow-feathered, soft.

The Tower of Cups

Star pulsar, twist of colour
as down comes the tower,
a tiny foot that rocks foundations,
splashing colour, muffled clamour
of rubble tucks inside each other,
one another prayer-intoners,
om om speech speech up high in the bell chamber,
red-capped eye-strainer
of a plastic clatter, of a climb up and out
of growth suits and onesies,
collapsing odes to Technicolor,
industrial music.


Chain of nubbles with link-slippage,
as grunt and shout, and squealing overture,
these raspberries, sibilance about the spout,
to splutter and bubble, to grip and hold,
lock across the body and gloat
as tongue lolls about syllables;
on consonants, on gutturals,
as mauve chain links yellow links
red and green and we can change them back again,
gummy as a sneak of a tooth shows through,
sneak of a tooth,
the eye-switcher switches colour
as bright lights overhead distract
and a roaring laugh glows
as bright as birth lights
chew the langue-ee links
that were never
in the Möbius plan.

Wrist Rattles, Ankle Rattles

Snubby chubbles about the wrists and ankles,
to starburst and reflex action the newly gripping
hands and encircling feet: these Velcro rings
of opposable thumbs, to pincer-grip
the snug foot-fittings, socks of lion
and elephant with the tied-up stretch of snoz,
the bright shapes, as close they come
and cross-eyes quartet the scrum
of digits and crinkly coats,
rattles for brains, playground and stage
the striped tube that hides the wrigglers
we later call toes, and those waving
fingers—trimmed nails
still etching skin in sweeps and hooks;
as the massive calm comes from without,
the room of the loomers, the large,
a vestige of market research
and the bright packaging
that calls a talk all of its own.