Anne Bryant
Lullaby and Good Night
I. Daddy's Girl
All around the wintry sheet
The Daddy touched his girlchild
Wet her in his warm release
Pop! goes the girlchild.
Tight within herself she reeled
Sealing in her heartstrings
In little boxes well concealed
Pop! goes the girlchild.
Shame maintained the vaults intact
Until she tried to marry
Love exposed the stinking cracks
Pop! goes the girlchild.
II. Playtime
This old man, he played one
He played knick knack on her buns
With a knick knack patty whack
Give a girl the bone
This old man came rolling home.
This old man, he played two
He played knick knack stick in hoop
With a knick knack patty whack
Give a girl the bone
This old Pan came prancing home.
This old man, he played three
He played knick knack we, we, weeeeeee
With a knick knack patty whack
Give a girl the bone
This wee wonk came walking home.
This old man, he played six
He played knick knack licked her lips
With a knick knack patty whack
Give a girl the bone
This old Dick came dilly dally home.
This old man he played four
He played knick knack smashed her door
With a knick knack patty whack
Give a girl the bone
This old prick came slam-bang home.
This old man, he played nine
He played knick knack whine and grind
With a knick knack patty whack
Give a girl the bone
This Old Nick came slinking home.
This old man, he played five
He played knick knack made her ride
With a knick knack patty whack
Give a girl the bone
This big buck came boldly home.
This old man, he played seven
He played knick knack talked of heaven
With a knick knack patty whack
Give a girl the bone
This old scam came shambling home.
This old man, he played eight
He played knick knack seeded hate
With a knick knack patty whack
Give a girl the bone
This old ram came ambling home.
This old man, he played ten
He played knick knack at her end
With a knick knack patty whack
Give a girl the bone
This old man came rolling home.
III. Mother's Touch
Now I lay her down to sleep
Stay unless she starts to weep
For I have had enough of tears,
Nor will I still her bogeyman fears.
I hush her down into her bed.
Scorn her pull upon my head;
Yet kneel to kiss her trusting eyes
Caressing brush so I can fly.
Thus I push her down to sleep,
Rush to move, my hand to keep
Her head pressed in her pillowed nest,
Now I lay her down to rest.
IV. Mother Damnable
She kept the household straightened,
With persnickety skill,
Rocked her babies combed and buttoned
And chiseled their wills;
But Mother Damnable had no eyes,
She had no ears,
She had no arms.
She baked them ginger cookies
Scrolled with sugary ink,
"Spoiling youngsters is my hobby,"
She giggled and winked;
That Mother Damnable who had no eyes,
She had no ears,
She had no arms.
She wooed her little children
With an ivory sound,
Wheeling visions white and open
They grew spellbound;
To Mother Damnable who had no eyes,
She had no ears,
She had no arms.
And so it was, that their arms tightened
And their eyes mattered shut,
Their eardrums thick and hardened
Like Mother, all grown-up.
Anne
Bryant has been a psychologist in a mental hospital and an elementary school
librarian. Her work has appeared in the Kansas Quarterly, North Atlantic
Review, and The New York Quarterly.
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