Juliet Cook is a grotesque glitter witch medusa hybrid brimming with black, grey, silver, purple, and dark red explosions. Her poetry has appeared in a peculiar multitude of literary publications. You can find out more at www.JulietCook.weebly.com. 

F R E S H L Y   C A S T   D O L L   H E A D S   W A I T   TO   D R Y

I think my eyes might stay wet forever.
I can't stop dripping
over my newly dead dog.

Wrapped in plastic
pillow bag, black fur drowning
under white snow fall.

I think my next pet will be a doll
who won't die if her head snaps.
Who won't painfully convulse.

He was always soft and warm
inside, but now he's buried
in the cold ground. 

I can't even see him
except in my dreams
filled with seizures.

I think my eyes might finally dry
when they are ripped out and buried
on each side of his casket.

When my holes are filled with hard
doll eyes. Tiny doll house furniture.
Tiny dog bowl for a dog that can't move.


J U L I E T   C O O K

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