Andy Brookes

Gold Star - 31,796 Points (11 May 1954 / Macclesfield)

Down The Rabbit Hole - Poem by Andy Brookes

we used to call them asylums,
less PC, nut houses.
sometime I wonder
who were the insane
the kept or the keepers.

psychiatrists
those box of frogs
jumping to conclusions
more neuroses,
these men of science,
have locked away
in their secret cupboards.

childhood they hope
is where the answer lies.
using their keys
that don't fit the locks
yet they force them anyway

how are you today?
they ask.
patient A stares,
not in bewilderment,
but at this wild haired
and disheveled apparition.

patient B shrinks back
from this Mad Hatter,
looking for all the world
like the Dormouse.

Patient C gives her Cheshire Cat grin
dissolving into giggles

whose reality
I ask, then pausing,
maybe they'll think I'm mad
for asking.
whose reality is reality

ours or theirs?

ignored,
nurse, he asks me, notes,
in that too calm voice,
which both scares and irritates.

the mad leading the disturbed
the pages of Alice in Wonderland turn.

Topic(s) of this poem: scared


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, November 10, 2015



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