A flop-eared fuck of a rabbit ran on by,
tripping over me in his haste.
Never caring a wit in his bumping.
As if the air I occupied was insubstantial
and not worthy of one of such good taste.
I hadn’t noticed the rabbit hole
But he just dove
Fuck that rabbit. I didn’t know
who he was.
Or why he wore a tweed vest
yet his little bunny ass was left to stick
I just saw a dark hole in the earth.
with nothing but a deeper darkness
Fear clutched my throat
Words choked as I tried to yell
“What the hell?”, at him.
Leaving me burgling for time
trying to figure out my
All the whys and wherefore’s
While the background receded,
the foreground contracted.
Leaving me in the tight middleground
of discontent, what-if, and
I hugged myself tight, but it wasn’t cold,
that was just my soul
falling to pieces
as I tried to hold my self together
while I flaked away.
Go Rabbit, go!
You have the right of it.
You know what time it is; always.
So go down that Rabbit hole
because you’re a fucking rabbit
and you know what to expect.
I wish I could go
I just fucking won’t fit.
by Philip Wardlow 2017