by Jason Li
She delivers mannequins to those who wish
To dress them. She loads the plastic bodies
Into her minivan and leaves D–––– before dawn.
She spends daylight on the road.
For smaller shipments, one might imagine
Her buckling them in the seats
Or ending the journey at Macy’s
To dignify them with clothes herself.
She would do no such thing.
Driving is cheerless work, and she is tired
Of spending sunrises with a pale, stiff,
and Voiceless orgy jostling behind her.
She has a son who sleeps in, enjoys
Road trips, and travels with warm bodies
Who speak to him and dress themselves.
They make better company than plastic.
Late in the day, she returns to D––––.
She is back on the road as the sun sets,
The drive home from the warehouse
Is when she is most alone.