The irony inherent 
       is a prose piece
       from yours truly
       was found in his pocket, so
       the doll had kept 
       a fragment of me
       close by.
     The camp friend - "Old Eagle Eye" - 
       picked up the doll
       and took it back home.
     I wrote a letter immediately after
        I hung up the phone
      knowing quite well that O.E.E.  would simply
      not understand that my 
      disappearing reappearing poet/doll
         responded only to my immediate voice
            or written word
      and the odds that O.E.E. should locate
          my companion along
        the stick black tar and
          yellow dividing reflective tape
                  of I-90,
         stretched far and wide as
       conflicting air currents 
         in Western Wind tornadoes.

The East Village Poetry Web
Matt Levy