These are the things

that follow me down

rabbit hole,

after rabbit hole;

dwindling starlight

winks back in this dark dimension.

Heaven help the fallen.

How long can the grim death march endure?

The hallowed shapes that claim discipleship

and rage long into the blogosphere,

where the slack jawed and never confirmed

salivate for its commencement,

like dogs to a dinner bell.


Rally the troops,

we’re going to take the hill,

the roads

and the port cities.

Even in Wonderland

shuffled soldiers culled roses

and suffered the indignations

of poor leadership.


bent the mind like MK Ultra

and stacked bodies like cordwood,

mangled and murderous

for the good of Main Street N.F.A.


I never bought the trading cards,

never chewed the bubble gum,

but I still remember the hot summer sun

that bathed childhood in laughter

and sound tracked my memories

to the score of the Dickie Dee van.

How far gone am I now from that indoctrination,

to the taught spider wire of near field narcissism

that I clutch so tenaciously?


Another bad link,

draws a blank.

That shot didn’t sound right,

check the barrel,

it might have been a squib load.

The next shot has to count,

the Red Queen’s guards

search for white roses

and the walled garden is full of snakes.

Many of our endeavours

were doomed from the outset.


I thought I had a good reason

to follow the rabbit,

but blind curiosity,

though it can pay interesting dividends,

is still blind.

Hard to get a good sight picture,

when your mind is swimming,

eyes letting in too much light.

Tracers spiral,

try telling yourself it is just the drugs,

you’re not insane;

not yet.

There is still time.

There is still some light left.



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