The Mad Hatter
is alive and well
and taking Tea in my head
from across the oblong table
he addresses me
in Alice's stead
" art is just one's soul in Technicolor form"
he says with his pinky in the air
and a vacant stare
and I wonder for a moment
if there isn't really something there
and I think on the queen
with her hearts and roses of red
aggression in her heart
anger in her head
the white rabbits in hurry
but to make it ...where?
and the Cheshire cat
just smoked a doobie
and just doesn't care
and each one stands out
as if they
really are there
but the mad hatter speaks easy
from across the table
in his high back chair
"you may think me crazy girl
but i know your secret"
and he looks at me
with icy stare
" You left your confidence years ago
laid it down and don't know where"
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