They pinned his wool lapels against the felted backing sheet Two polished copper clips to keep the cuffs discreet and neat A bead of cedar oil behind the collar band to stay The greedy winter moths before they eat his coat away The parlor neighbors peer across the pickets on the stroke To watch him line his canister and chimney tins of coke He never twitches chin or cheek when letterboxes snap Young Arthur settles down inside the wooden specimen trap Arthur never turns his feet Nailed down tidy, cold and sweet Town may alter, clocks may chime Arthur stands outside of time A dusting of the alum packed within the double seams A rim of yellow beeswax sealing up his little dreams No moisture on the glass to show a breath is in the lung No residue of sorrow resting heavy on the tongue Look How Stiff The Little Specimen Remains In Place! Not A Single Wrinkle Wandering Across The Face! Turn The Heavy Brass Lock Twice Within The Frame! Tuck Away The History And Iron Out The Name! His sister comes on Tuesday with a duster made of geese To polish up the partition and keep the parlor peace She swears he never bartered for a portion past his tea And ceased to answer questions by the age of thirty-three The regulator monitors at fifty-eight degrees To keep the linen collars from decaying at the breeze A caller might mistake him for a fellow fast asleep Except for how the unclosed eyes their frozen vigil keep Arthur never turns his feet Nailed down tidy, cold and sweet Town may alter, clocks may chime Arthur stands outside of time No decay along the hem Pin the blossom to the stem No rotation on the floor Slip the bolt and bar the door Catalog entry four-nineteen Prettiest marvel ever seen Safe from the weather, safe from the rain Safe from ever waking into hollow grief again Look How Stiff The Little Specimen Remains In Place! Not A Single Wrinkle Wandering Across The Face! Turn The Heavy Brass Lock Twice Within The Frame! Tuck Away The History And Iron Out The Name! The glass remains chilly to the tap-tap-tap The latch stays fastened on the tidy trap Clear the slate Drop the pin Nothing shifts a millimeter from within
