"Marc le marque-page adore le poids des pages..."
A small, blue flat man with my name
Stands upright on his plastic feet.
He belongs in a book. He holds
Ones place in bricks of printed sheets.
He has a cheeky cartoon grin.
He came taped to French instructions.
In a hand's span he links whimsy,
Marketing, anachronism,
Global industrial complex,
And marginal utility.
He smiles at me on backward feet.
Light snow fills the picture window.
I will not keep him in a book.
I will give him to my daughter,
And we will imagine him lost
In our doll and beast haunted woods.
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