Putrefaction

BY ISABEL BATES

“I'm afraid I can't explain myself, sir. Because I am not myself, you see?”

-Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

ever since she left us

a century ago at least

our Wonderful Land has tilted off

its peculiar axis

the Rabbit’s face tics

every once in a while

not knowing what to count—

days, millennia, seconds

how slow this old moon wanes

the Queen sits idly on her throne

without a foe, her game of chess

can birth no blood

the rooks will soon revolt

staining those damned roses

with the redness they deserve

years later

our logic has become lawless

the Dodo pecks at his own flesh

he chose to play the lion’s part

and now suffers the consequences

the toadstools have rotted

ere his youth attained a beard

the Knave of Hearts crumbles in the grass,

his head rolling farther away

a very merry unbirthday to him

we never had much rhyme or reason

but this—

this must be madness

even Cheshire himself would be proud

if we shadows have offended

we will join in souls to adapt

the Hare will change his tune

to discourse new wonders

the Hatter would eat the raven

and barter his writing-desk

to drag the child back

she never even finished croquet

take my advice, Alice—

memorize your poems thoroughly

the moon methinks looks with a watery eye

and she is not alone

***certain quotes/words taken from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream