oops! I fell down the rabbit hole
in my poem
Hello Alice, lovely dress the
perfect shade of blue I
was sent to warn you
I wish I could have
warned myself
now we're plummeting
past the Rabbit's
bookshelves
stop! I want to
read the titles so
I can find them
when I wake up...
there's going to be
a tea party - you'll
be sitting at the
table in your party dress
but you won't feel invited
despite the pink cake
in the middle of the table;
you won't get a slice
no matter how nicely you pour tea;
you ask too many questions
and you won't have a moment
to yourself. even if you cry,
other people will utilize
your tears on the spot this is
that kind of dream: you
can't wake up when you want to,
dear.
but the door to the garden,
once you get through-
just stay: on the still point of
a turning world that makes no sense;
like a jewel-box ballerina when
the music ends
remaining you by barely breathing
so that at the last
you'll be
unperceived and bounce yourself out of
their false rose frieze
mary angela douglas february 2008
