The Mad March Hare Affair

Apologies to Lewis Carroll and White Rabbits everywhere….

The Mad March Hare Affair


A late-night high-wire act
with a saran-wrapped acrobat
in her four-poster acro-belfry
where you cracked bells
and Bells whisky, frisked
both basque and brisket
love-slaps shock-absorbed
by beer-belly crumple-zones
so now you sidle home
hare-fast moist with guilt
to lick your lips as Pantin’s
bliss-mist-kisses burn
like napalmed butterflies
on your lust-rouged cheeks.

Keys barely fit the wee-hours locks
to twinkle in with sandman socks
eschewing light for dark delight
as Hermaphrodite guides your aim
tempting beds both genders jest
Jesus – a penis and a brain!

Now braille-fumble banisters
of your ivory tower
from haven form heaven
ascend the staircase spiral
one golden ratio at a time
step-edges saw at feet
the Babel-teeth of each Design
gravity leadens each footfall
as you creak each coffin-lid
guilty knees click and grieve

until you squeeze out
Alice-like on landings
ignoring ‘Fuck Me’ labels
to enter her musky bedroom
then teapot-muffled dormouse pause
half-mad on methyl-mercury
on tippy-toe and tenterhooks.


© mitch 2023
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