This appeared in Debra Di Blassi's Dirty, Dirty, Jan 2013, but I never saw the finished edition.
An Oink from China . Plush, a Hug Me I'm Yours white bear heart. A sea thing. A purple teletubby from Eden . Dinosaur dudes with purple shades. A she-dude and a she-bop. I got the pick. Time for another box. The wash, the dirt, the oil is enough. Now they have to be praised. Line the bodies up. All can be saved. “Aren’t you pretty,” I say, “yum, yum, girls,” but don't look in the eyes. Transfigure the world. Frizzy beauts in caliche mud when the hair and a dress comes off. They go their way, but we get them back. Up canal, they land in pickups in awful heat. Garages speak a different language after this. The box is full. I can say that much. The basket is full. One starts to call “Velma” or “Mama.” I go to check. Heads bump. They’re hot, the water is hot, the heads are bald. I don't see any boys. Eyes peep over suds. Water clears. Bald heads come out. You get closer, pop the lid. Heads go by. One in her fourth mind. One lost a dress. One gained water weight. Stuffing’s out. Holes open up. She drips. The machine goes fast. They take off their clothes. It feels good to bathe. I wish we could have them at our club, eyes closed, heads thrown back to drain. It's what we dream, the way dolls are made.