The Poem To Thingamabobs, To Ray Bradbury

(for Ray Bradbury in the Golden Age again)

this is my poem to thingamabobs, to the newfangled, spangled
lest we forget to love and dust the bric a brac
to sneeze and then discard with these

do not, whose kingdoms you would banish
all the windmilled, pinwheeled toys, the click and the clack
Walt Disney's on the track

and train whistled too this castle's for you, with its

world's fair mentions, crystal palaces at end of days

the crown jewel displays
all we sought in little ways and the dollhouse too, the dolls
the amazing maze of all of it all

recall, red rubber balls, jacks handled deftly on a summer porch
the siren calls of toys forever calling you on a rotary dial

red plastic phone:

come on home, they plead the Bears with sticky paws

the cheery tools that shone like anything

in the grade school primer

on one Saturday afternoon littered with

toyshop elfish clues and jiminey cricket this is quite a setup

even with one tweak one twist one game of whist
or mah jong too
one charming turn of the dial

and it's all lit up like Christmas for a while

that may be longer too
if you should choose
you so and so marvelous

whats its and will be too
the chiming invention and the swan kite flown
wings and wings of man and icarus breathes again

in all the solar winds

making the angels laugh and spin the children ever merry
oh nation of optimists, disguised as dystopian fans:

come out from your swampish hiding place

remember your story lands

oh, catch as catch can.

mary angela douglas 10 december 2019;2 november 2021