~Dummy~
Moving not a muscle, voices came,
from somewhere deep within his frame.
The ventriloquist soon wooed the crowd;
ensuing applause came fiercely loud...
~~~
When Martin Periwinkle was through;
house lights brightened, stage curtains drew,
remaining still, so motionless,
he'd given all, audience professed.
~~~
The owner came with, Congratulations,
bouquets of roses, and salutations!
Near Martin's body — his dummy was lying,
painted face streaked — had it been crying?
~~~
He's dead, doc said, has been for days.
How he performed, I couldn't say.
Both men looked closely — ashen faces went slack—
at the tiny wooden hand in the dead man's back...