A Barbie Doll is, literally and literarily, plastic. Even the silken hair is plastic, (silkless silken hair of black, brune, gold, –red? Did Jazzy have red?) or a synthetic fiber close to plastic. Related to plastic, not necessarily plastic, but necessarily synthetic. (Why oh why necessarily?) Plastic — oil– sinks into the fibers, fabric, of the Barbie Doll’s glistening flesh-toned magic, from there into the fibers of the bad bardic poet, and as oil sinks into the gills of fish, or into the pebbles or sand of the beach, for poems are of the plastic arts, form engendering, hot, like lava…
“It” sinks into the words, tone, and voice of our Barbie Doll bard. He does have words, spoken in distinct tones, forming a distinctive Alex Jonz-Joned-Jones voice. Yet we can wonder if there can be a plastic or Barbie Doll tradition, or in that tradition, if it does exist, a plastic or Barbie Doll poetry.
Plastic is elastic, if it is rubber, made of flubber, made of scenes, made of dreams, celluloid, back drift, we dip our voice, full of remorse, as a Barbie Doll, shrink-wrapped into pleasant moll, ashant, asphalt, a gold finch, or other atoll, let it be Bikini atoll.
Spam of Human Affection 
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