The Rabbit Hole

The Tangled Snickerpuss

Like a swell of many voices coming along for tea,
a tentacle reaches out to grab the depths in me.

Swishing around slurping, rummaging for a dime,
gobbling, distracting, stealing, all my freaking time.
It needs to have a say.
It needs to have its way.
It feeds upon my day
as it hangs me and I sway.

Down the rabbit hole,
its darkness all consuming
until the light of tea sport
which I don’t find much amusing.

It’s tangled splinters, tangled vines
filled with squatters and messed up minds
it lives and breaths down in the hole
consuming, greedy, making show.

The Golden Warbler

Down the rabbit hole you are,
filled with grief and despair.
You hear the trauma, terrorizing booming,
all you know to do is stare.

It’s outrageous, angrifying madness
clamoring for the “common good.”
It squeals with gladness, always churning
hiding its wolfish wool.

I wouldn’t listen Snickers, tangled as you are.
The Golden Warbler has come thy way
who has a better say.
You’ve bitten the apple to find real life
better enhanced without the strife;
But know this, no matter where you go,
there will always be some dangling pole.

jajjc
Down the Rabbit Hole
6/18/2022