It makes sense why the Scarecrow
Was the one Dorothy missed most of all.
After all, the lion was a monster of a thing,
And the Tin Man was a mess.
Well, you see, his heart was already breaking.
And you can’t squeeze a heart
Out of a tin can man.
Rain (and certianly not any kind of tears)
Had long ago rusted
Rivets that held the hatch
Over where his heart should go.
The nails she bit off weren’t sharp enough
The fingers that shook weren’t thin enough
The smile she found behind the curtian wasn’t bright enough
To pry his chest back open.
To put the cogwork heart back inside.
Her fleshy heart was
Patchwork to start with.
She never much missed it until
It relfected in the blue-
Of his eyes-
And then for the first time in
Witches only know how long,
She heard a single tick.
And she dreamed that He did too.
But the wizard’s gifts were some assembly required.
Her pile of felt squares and multi-colored thread
Weren’t so important to her now.
A clock was delicate. A clock needed
Four hands even though it only
Only when she dreamed, she sewed
Together the pieces of felt
Alice had it fucking easy.
After all, her hatter was mad for her.
Dorothy was left with a pile
Of tattered rainbow felt
In Kansas, barren as
What was left of an unticking heart.