Down the Rabbit hole
We go.
Swirling Spirals
The Steam is rising.
My hands want to touch.
Your hat is on the floor.
Smiles without faces.
Their watching me.
The Pig baby is in me.
The Queen is appalled.
Off with my head.
Because I love the Rabbit.
The rabbit will burn my house down.
He was right.
I am wrong.
He’s up on his pedestal.
He can fly far away from here,
I cannot leave this hell I’m in
The flowers are laughing.
I am not one of them.
But even so
I am not worthless.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent stuff, Barbara: you build on Carroll well by making the Rabbit an arsonist, & I love the direction you're steering the story in... keep it up!