To the Earless Rabbit

9 April 2014

"Poor baby," They cried as they spat Water down
your rabbit hole,
and set your dead-leaved floor ablaze.

You are lacking what you do not miss,
and missing
what makes you Whole.

Looking like nothing out of the Beatrix-esque illustrations
you draw on your palms---
and walking one foot at a time on your hind legs exclusively---
your malleability rots me to my core.

I lie out on the screened-in porch
and dream you into a watery oblivion,

until my Hands break free of my wrists;

See:
We are the same.

Reviews

[A. Amos]

Love the title and the content of your poetry was great...

[Chris]

I truthfully can't say I fully understand this one. But I read it aloud three times and felt the same after each read. A sense of a real and personal hurt and deep disappointment...

Anyway, I did listen as best I could.