How good—how liberating!—to read
of your hatred of Alice in Wonderland.
I used to hear my mother reading it
to my sisters, and I hated it too,
but have always been embarrassed
to say so, believing that everybody else
loved it. But who the hell wants to go
down a rabbit hole? I like my feet best
when they’re walking on top of the ground.
If I could burrow like a mole, I would,
and I would like that. I would like
to fly like a bird, if I could. Otherwise,
my stratum of choice is the surface.
I prefer skin to anatomy, green grass
to buried rocks, terra firma to the view
from anywhere higher than a tree.
“Long live superficiality!” say I,
as one foot fares waywardly graveward.