The hooka smoking caterpillar
Tells me to travel daily
Between being and becoming,
Then lends me a smoke
To feel the essential lifeline
Against the roof of my mouth.
I keep a wicked whiff of burn
At the back of my mind,
Outwitting its elusive gaze
That pierces through my brain.
Let me rabbitize the hole and slip
Alice into the outer world
Of the unspoken, undone tales,
Up a sleeve, down a finger,
Lipstick on my mouth
Because it publicizes me,
Compressing time in the flipbook
Of an eerie touch of a gentle wrist.
Destiny Poets
Uniting and celebrating the best "Writers" and "Poetry" from around the world centred out of Destiny Church Wakefield
” Let’s do the timewarp,again ! ” , the pungent aromas of ’68 are re-awakened by this homage to Grace Slick ; well,at least for this particular reader.
Ha! Grace Slick it is, then! Thank you!