makes perfect sense when up is down and down is up.
I catch a glimpse of you now and then, when my life
has gone jabberwocking into hyper-reality, and I
am the Hatter gone mad, the angry queen, the dormouse.
Isn’t it obvious? I am, at times, all my worst selves
dressed in my best clothes, looking for the party,
one minute too small for my life, the next too large.
Are you who you thought you’d be? And if so,
are you disappointed or glad? Sometimes I can’t decide.
Was there ever a plan, or did I just follow a set
of strange rules for fear of disrupting the game?
What do I have to fear from a pack of cards?
The shuffled deck could yield no firmer answers
nor protection from the Queen who wants my head.
I’ve lost it so many times that it feels normal.
Was it all a dream, dear
I would gladly step through the glass to see
where I might have gone, had I been wiser, braver
or less afraid of looking foolish. I would have followed
my own strange dreams, except that one about
climbing Everest naked; definitely not that one.
But I think of you when I plan my brief escape.
Why is there never a rabbit hole around
when you need it?