“The time has come,” the Walrus said,
“To talk of many things:
Of shoes–and ships–and sealing-wax–
Of cabbages–and kings–”
Of who will win tomorrow’s vote
And what the future brings.
And I, for one, am tired of
The choice of evil less
And Neither do I wish to win
For both would be a mess.
And so instead I vote to change
This system from the past,
For these two parties failing us
To come an end at last.
For if they get just five percent
Another could arise
To change the nation’s standards
Right before our eyes
“I weep for you,” the Walrus said:
“I deeply sympathize.”
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.
“O Oysters,” said the Carpenter,
“You’ve had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?’
But answer came there none–
And this was scarcely odd, because
They’d eaten every one.
like the drops
on her forehead,
Cold and penetrating.
She shut her eyes
and her mind
bracing herself for the next,
She had, for a long time, liked to think that her mind was indestructible
But slowly, slowly
she was learning otherwise
She turned the knob, just slightly, so the faucet would slowly and consistently drip fat, cold drops. She stepped over the edge and laid on the bottom of the tub so that her small body would be aligned to let the drops fall precisely on the imagined x in the center of her forehead
As the heat was drawn from her body and her bones became self aware, her eyes no longer saw the bathroom and her ears no longer heard the silence.
She was elsewhere,
fascinated by torture
And slowly, slowly
she found that a mind,
given enough water
their gunshots and you
surfacing in the ocean of silence
in a dream
bringing back all the memories and realities
Like an earthquake splitting the surface
simply to remind the world
of its layered existence