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?
Vivien Marie Lopez
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