Compass to the Poison Apple

Isn’t she actual, isn’t she tell-tale?
Isn’t she the golden child, isn’t she the wolf?
Big eyes and mouth, to better see your head
And tear it away from your jewel-encrusted neck;

Away from the comfortable arrogance (well-practiced)
Of pumpkin-pimped rides and banquet banshees
And genies with three wishes and chicks or hobos with magic wands
I could be the Mad Hatter, but where is Wonderland?

(c) 2013
Vivien Marie Lopez

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.


2 thoughts on “Compass to the Poison Apple

Go. Moan. Scream. Tell me if you like it. Make some noise.

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