‘let us go then, you and I’
down the dark grimy rabbit hole
we fondly call my mind
inhibitions humming in the distance
an endless expanse of white until we
approach the earthquakian land of
many beginnings and no ends,
let us write ourselves into existence,
feel time curve back, pass through the
blitz of neon green signaling explosions,
like driving for miles upon miles with no governing force
until you spot the faint glitz of a diner or motel
and suddenly things aren’t quite as directionless
as they seemed.
let us tip-toe endlessly
in fields littered with three-thousand shock voltages
we are pinballs who lost sight of our targets
swiveling skittishly in empty space
no axis, no anchors.
you become a believer with your
first fix of my hallucinative fever
the visions and voices
once souvenirs from a nuthouse
now drill themselves into your sternum
until your body becomes a
living, throbbing straitjacket
and sends you shooting to a shrink
who sends you to a doctor
who says you need a little bit of this
and a little bit of that
to feel like you again.
you realize now that there is nothing glamorous about the stiff-lipped, tight-faced, zombie-like movements you once revered with a mad look in your eye
like a cinematist who discovered his
muse after decades of rummaging through
an ocean of dollish faces and spirited hands pouring
entire sugar canisters into their coffee without
a single moment of hesitation
not fearing ballooning to thrice their size.
plastic can afford to fill its lungs
four-fifths of the way with sugar.
you sit with the horrifying straightness of someone
about to be lashed to a stake the second you realize
I am not, I am not, I am not
what you were hoping to find
this is not the rabbit hole of children’s wonderlands
I have tempered you into something you don’t quite recognize
and
plastic and sugar have never been more appealing.
Author Bio:
Faryal Rashid is a 19-year-old poet from Lahore, Pakistan who has spent the overwhelming majority of her thinking life burrowed in books. She likes traveling into the unfamiliar and enjoys the thrill of discovering new things. She is currently in her final year of high school, and hopes to study in the Netherlands next year. She hopes to continue writing and sucking the marrow out of every opportunity thrown her way. Influences include just about anyone and anything with an idiosyncratic dynamism.
down the dark grimy rabbit hole
we fondly call my mind
inhibitions humming in the distance
an endless expanse of white until we
approach the earthquakian land of
many beginnings and no ends,
let us write ourselves into existence,
feel time curve back, pass through the
blitz of neon green signaling explosions,
like driving for miles upon miles with no governing force
until you spot the faint glitz of a diner or motel
and suddenly things aren’t quite as directionless
as they seemed.
let us tip-toe endlessly
in fields littered with three-thousand shock voltages
we are pinballs who lost sight of our targets
swiveling skittishly in empty space
no axis, no anchors.
you become a believer with your
first fix of my hallucinative fever
the visions and voices
once souvenirs from a nuthouse
now drill themselves into your sternum
until your body becomes a
living, throbbing straitjacket
and sends you shooting to a shrink
who sends you to a doctor
who says you need a little bit of this
and a little bit of that
to feel like you again.
you realize now that there is nothing glamorous about the stiff-lipped, tight-faced, zombie-like movements you once revered with a mad look in your eye
like a cinematist who discovered his
muse after decades of rummaging through
an ocean of dollish faces and spirited hands pouring
entire sugar canisters into their coffee without
a single moment of hesitation
not fearing ballooning to thrice their size.
plastic can afford to fill its lungs
four-fifths of the way with sugar.
you sit with the horrifying straightness of someone
about to be lashed to a stake the second you realize
I am not, I am not, I am not
what you were hoping to find
this is not the rabbit hole of children’s wonderlands
I have tempered you into something you don’t quite recognize
and
plastic and sugar have never been more appealing.
Author Bio:
Faryal Rashid is a 19-year-old poet from Lahore, Pakistan who has spent the overwhelming majority of her thinking life burrowed in books. She likes traveling into the unfamiliar and enjoys the thrill of discovering new things. She is currently in her final year of high school, and hopes to study in the Netherlands next year. She hopes to continue writing and sucking the marrow out of every opportunity thrown her way. Influences include just about anyone and anything with an idiosyncratic dynamism.
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