I know you were going for a “serious dis”
but got
“serious disorder,” a whirlwind of piss
that’s the
problem with having an agenda
to destroy
both the alpha and omega
which is,
always, in opposition of the former
having made
more performers than the latter
you must be
more careful performing on a ladder
too often the
ladder falls on top of you, banging
your face,
leaving all your secrets dangling
because one of
“the many” you were banging
bailed on you,
leaving you (physically) hanging
now you want
to hang someone else out to dry
do you (even)
have a legitimate reason why
you’ve chosen
this, particular, someone else?
did your
delusional stupor leave you with welts
I told you to
be careful when you’re on a ladder
in the former
use of ladder not in the latter
what’s that?
no, nothing’s the matter
with me, but
those who lost their heart seem madder
and, if you
really want the truth, they don’t matter
they’re all
too scared of the Mad Hatter
only the mad
one knows why she's mad at her
but this story
gets so, so much sadder
even
simpletons know the injustice done to her
because Mad’s
always hated her since she never
thanked Mad
for the dunce hats Mad gave her
she said she
wouldn’t wear any of them - ever
so Mad wore
the biggest one and once more
got all in her
face, after she opened the door
“you cause too
much fucking chatter
between those
who fawn over me thinking I matter
like the hats
I took out of your trash bin
what a
terrible place for my dunce hats to be in
it’s as if you
really, truly hated all of them
I can,
finally, see that you’re not, even,
vaguely close
to a person that I want in my spot
your ugliness
inside erupts, and “he” thinks you’re hot
bitch, you
never heard a word of the chit-chatter
my circumcised
clique-tourists tried to splatter
your two,
fly-by friends were forced under a ladder
noticing my
evil twin walk in to fucking watch
the “cover-up”
was ugly like the merkin on my crotch"
I asked my
twin, “what time is it?” she said, "go buy a
watch
then take it
off and toss it, way up high, inside the loft
where she
lays, every day, praying our hearts get soft
go on, get mad
at me, thinking Ms. Madd had her"
just because
Mad removed her hat to dance with her
made it look
like she had more romance with her
nobody thought that she had
any friends
she never
talked about them in the end
she had as
many as her drug money could buy
so it was
predictable that they would all start to die
still, when
the news came back to her who is me
as if to make
the Mad Hatter see
because I lost
another friend, yet again
I knew, at that
moment, right there and then
I was going to
be alone forever,
always a
suicidal failure who never
died and
stayed dead
even the brain
inside my head
came back,
again and again, even when
it went
forty-five minutes without oxygen
which should
have made a larger dent
most people
would have required a vent
in order to
keep themselves alive
science says a
human brain starts to, rapidly, die
after seven to
ten minutes the neurons get fried
pronounced "dead” so many times, why have I survived?
it doesn’t
matter, the Hatter's evil twin has gone mad
demanding to
have my head for showing how, truly, bad
the
clique-tourists have treated me as if I circumcised
the ugliness
and disfigurement her merkin tries to hide
just go away –
all of you – find another voice to quiet
I’m dead set
to conquer failure, it’s best done in private
©October 3, 2014 – Tamara Imes-Nicholas
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