about me
on the other side of the looking glass,
i'm a world unto myself,
my days arrayed like avenues,
my nights displayed on shelves,
my meshes spun with tender precision
and cast like maps of hell.
webs of plot and thought connect
my screaming insect cells.
on the other side of the looking glass,
i entertain the beast.
my refractions and reflections
are just vectors for its feast.
my living will is shrivelled
just until i tug its leash:
a revenge upon the doctors who
declared my wit diseased.
i feel the future kiss the past.
it comes on hard it comes on fast.
i spy an angel made of trash.
on the other side of that looking glass.
on the other side of the looking glass
my organs are attuned
to a subtle shady wavelength,
a tone my mother knew.
a flock of oscillations
persuade me to see blue
where leptons court and quarks cavort
without substance, shape, or hue.
i'm feeling time turn into space.
i shine with a shrill fragmented grace.
your sacred writ all sounds so crass.
on the other side of that looking glass.
on the other side of the looking glass,
my chaos is complete
and all that's best of dark and bright
comingles in the street.
my make-up is mostly liquid.
my flesh is pure deceit.
i prepare a shifting shape to face
the figments i might meet.
this game need never end, my pet.
where yes is no
and no is yes,
in crooked rooms where we are blessed,
where souls unfold and thoughts undress.
in vast arcades where angels crash,
on the other side of that looking glass.
