Marge Simon | When Again I Feel My Hands

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My wooden hands
hang idle on the strings.
Master's drunk on Holland gin
& sleeps beside the wench
who takes my place.

Half human, half wood,
I am the fool's sceptre,
a reprieve from tedium,
my simple plays enhanced
by classical compositions.
You cannot know how dear
the price of mirth.

With his dark eyes, he wooed me
& with his magic, he prevailed.
Father swore, mother wept
as he swept me in his arms
& then away to foreign lands.

Soon he'll tire of her,
& cast a spell to change her form
as did he mine, to suit his needs.
She'll bob & bow as I do now,
and he will set me free—
or so he promised, long ago.

When again I feel my hands,
I'll claim his magic for my own—
rip away these strings
& as he sleeps, pull them taut
around his bearded throat.

Marge Ballif Simon freelances as a writer-poet-illustrator for genre and mainstream publications such as FTA, ChiZine, The Pedestal Magazine, Strange Horizons, Flashquake, Aeon, and more. She has three collections coming out in 2007: Vectors: A Week in the Death of a Planet with Charlee Jacob (Regions Press) and the self-illustrated collections Like Birds in the Rain (Sam's Dot Publications) and Night Smoke (Kelp Queen Press), with Bruce Boston. Her illustrated poetry collection, Artist of Antithesis, was nominated for a Bram Stoker award in 2004. Marge is former president of the Science Fiction Poetry Association and now serves as editor of Star*Line.

She and her husband, Bruce Boston, live in Ocala, FL, "The City of Trees." In fair weather, Marge can be found sitting in the branches of a water oak, throwing nuts at tourists.

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