Kevin Rosatty
He catches rabbit in a pail,
Wisps of smoke in a magi’s hand.
From every corridor a shadow
Weeps its last lament,
From every weathered frame
Glimmers of velvet pink dusk.
The forest is unsafe,
Branches crack beneath
Tepid prints, a faceless hunter,
His father, perhaps.
“Where’s my dinner boy?”
Not tonight, oh no not tonight.
The young man,
For he is not the boy
His father addresses
(at least not in own mind),
Gathers his wits behind
A vine-beleaguered wall.
This particular, seemingly unremarkable,
But unquestionably cute rabbit
Is touched by the art,
Of this he is certain.
Alice is not the only one
Capable of a little
Inter-dimensional mischief
And one need not be
A child to believe
In the extraordinary.
He fancies himself an optimist
And he is not as his mother
Suggests a little too whimsical.
“Now rabbit open the portal
Before he overtakes us!”
But rabbit is not governed
By particularly refined
Survival instincts
So he simply stares, invisible
To no one but himself.
Audio If nothing else it amused me do you know how hard it is to read every weathered frame without degenerating into ridiculous voices? I went with something much lighter today because yesterday was so heavy and I needed a break from the stress and the heaviness and I needed a bit of silliness quite frankly. I even did a man voice ahem. I passed SFI btw but have to go anyways until the end of the week.
http://vocaroo.com/i/s1YM2EY2ltW4
mindlovemisery 