This is about Jessica, a true moment I poeticized.
She sobs. Mean daddy drags her crib
across the bedroom. Dolls gasp;
bears and tigers snarl from their shelves.
Wedged in the doorway, daddy grunts,
wrenches it through, gouges the frame.
Its legs plow through thick carpet leaving furrows.
He heaves it on the porch.
In her room, she sucks a thumb, stares at
the empty rectangular outline, phantom bars,
invisible Busy Box.
Stunned by the space
in her life, shapes of images
fade before tearing eyes.
then she goes to the kitchen
and drinks her juice.