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.
Rendition
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.
-HG
