Juliet Cook

Precious Little Doll Babies

Maybe it's because you can dress them
however you want, repeatedly stare at them,
take photo after photo of them, share them

wherever you choose, see lots of people smile
at them and call them cute or precious.
Maybe it's because you can talk to them

without them speaking back, at least
not in actual words. You can pick
their clothes for them with little to no objection
because they don't have their own style yet.

You can embody your style upon them. Groom them.
Feed them. Share photos of them on the toilet
without their approval, because it's not up to them yet.

Then when they start to develop and fine tune their own
words, you might hate them for not loving what you love,
for not being drawn to certain standard clichés.
The same set of precious little doll babies, at their best

when you can speak for them. Tell them what they should
or shouldn't do, how to act or feel, who they should become, as if
this should be obvious to them just because it's obvious to you.

 

Green Rabbit Within a Dream Within a Dream

A dream within a dream within
a dream or being stuck in my brain.
Within this dream, I've awoken
from an unexpected seizure
and am trying to reemerge
into my reality. But wait. I'm still dreaming.

In this dream I am already up,
walking around inside my home,
confused about items which had been
rearranged. Moved around without my permission
or any recollection of having done so myself.
Which happens sometimes after a seizure.
I move things around without knowing why.

But this time, I didn't even remember
having the seizure and usually I can at least
recall the beginning stage; an unsettling precursor
during which I can tell it's about to happen.

I have mere seconds to quickly sit down on the floor
so I don't fall down and bang my head.
Then seconds after I sit down, my head twists
to one side without my control. Next thing I know,

I'm up walking around again, confused again
but at least aware that I had a seizure.
In this dream, my garbage can was repositioned
from the kitchen to the living room, in the space
where I keep art and poetry chapbook supplies.

My green jade rabbit was removed
from the kitchen counter where she usually sits
beside a vintage liquor decanter (Four Roses Whiskey
even though I don't drink whiskey). Now she was
on my bathroom counter, facing the mirror.

Again and again, I thought I had woken myself up
from this dream then realized I was still dreaming.
I started to worry I wouldn't be able to wake myself this time. 
I eventually did. Then I was thinking about how anyone else

who rearranges items in my home doesn't realize or care
how my brain works. Sudden unexpected rearrangement
reminds me of seizure side effects and memory issues.
I'm uncertain about where anything is unless I can see it.

My mind backtracked to an EEG scan that didn't hurt
but made me cry because of so many strobe lights to the brain.
I couldn't tell if I was actually having a seizure
or if the strobing was part of a test. Somewhat similar
to this seizure dream from which I couldn't wake myself.

I started thinking about David Lynch,
a dream within a dream. We live inside a dream
but are we trapped or do we want to be inside this?
In reality, I'm not entirely sure
where my green jade rabbit came from.
I believe I chose her from a dead woman's home.

She is heavy and high density
with a tiny bit of one ear broken.
In my eyes, I barely see the broken part,
because that's just a part of who she is now.

Some might see her as less than.
Some might see her as outdated.
Some might see her as collectable
or a mythical moon goddess who stays up
all night looking somewhat antiquated but also
like a possibly rare antique. I see her

as a multi-hued green rabbit who lives
inside my space and mind and might end
up in another dimension in another dream
within a dream. Out of control, spiraling down
again until I can wake myself up and write.

 

Juliet Cook doesn't fit inside an Easy-Bake Oven and rarely cooks. Her poetry has appeared in a peculiar multitude of literary publications. She is the author of numerous poetry chapbooks, most recently including red flames burning out (Grey Book Press, 2023), Contorted Doom Conveyor (Gutter Snob Books, 2023), Your Mouth is Moving Backwards (Ethel Zine & Micro Press, 2023), REVOLTING (Cul-de-sac of Blood, 2024), and Blue Stingers Instead of Wings (Pure Sleeze Press, 2025).