Re-stringing the Boy
It takes hours. We move from socket to socket
unknotting his spine, the droop in his shoulders,
those loose dangling hands.
The way he came on stage the other day, just slumped in,
hardly lifting his head. I had to jerk the main string
tighter and tighter until he almost cracked.
One by one we cut the threads, untie him ,
until he is free of us, our meddling fidgeting hands.
If he could, if he had a soul, he could walk out right now
But someone carved him into shape,
invented the colour of his eyes, that same unchanging expression
blank as a reflection cast in a puddle, forget him,
he cannot make himself happen, it is all in your imagining,
he is nothing without our breath, see how he drags his bones now.
Louise Warren has been widely published in magazines . Her first collection ( A child’s last picture book of the Zoo) and pamphlet (In the scullery with John Keats) are both published by Cinnamon Press. She lives in London.