looking glass

The Looking Glass


This is it, I flipped out


into wonderland, regaining


my thick tousled hair, not


a care of Putin, Ferguson City,


Mogadishu or Syria & Iraq.


Ordinary, I was attempting


to take Frost’s untrodden way


allowing me that afflatus-Leap


but fell into the mirror like Alice,


I shrank with a fervent prayer


into a peculiar realm-smoking


in the fume from the hookah


inhaled by Big Tomato worm.


The Clockwork Rabbit whisked


me to the tea table with amenities.


No one can call me to bring me back.


The Mercury Tea so sweet like Nectar,


having no clue madness so beguiling.


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