Sunday 3/11/2007 12:36:00 AM

The hatter was mad enough. So I dicarded the wrench in my chest and let the rupture be what it was. Just a slanted square in a big game board. The callouses of checkmate showing not on the king, but his many pawns.

The rook. So lateral. The bishop. so helpful. As the diagram constructs our passage to the end of the world.

Taking the words in time-release doses. These feeble medicines I prescribe myself. Not to cure. Not even to quell. Only to make it worse. Break the bone in another place under the cover of casts thick with alone.

I know they can't save me. Though I imagine the ways they could. I know the needle is dull. As it scars over the songs. A broken elevator vomitting between floors. Doors half open. The people inside eyelashes stuck to its cheeks. Tears without a witness.

The hatter is mad enough. The alice quite small. Negotiating with the pills thtat make her bigger she confesses that she'd rather be small.

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