Art by Wendy Presseisen

The Biscuit Tin

The biscuit tin is empty 
There is mudcake on the floor 
The Queen of Hearts is dying 
What are they living for?

wishing wells of pennies,

or houses made of wood? 
-a dance or three with peglegs: 
How can that be any good? 
Piglets no longer go to market 
No one thinks to live life in a shoe, 
the cow can’t jump the moon any more 
And hayfever killed off Little Boy Blue.

Retreat for treats of pudding and pie 
Maddona kissed the girls and made them cry 
And little Mary Quite Contrary 
watched how your gardens grew, filled 
with exploded shells and corpses lain out in rows. 
Retreat retreat for humble pie 
Simple Simon had your number from day one 
and in caskets, blackbirds muster’d the cloudless sky 
For Humpty dumpty was an only one. 
My oh my, a right princess Miss Muffet grew to be 
and while we weren’t looking,
the Owl & Pussycat drowned at Sea

so now, the biscuit tin is empty 
and the mudcake on the floor 
crumbles in our fingers,

What are we looking for… ?

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

from “Falling Slowly” (2010)

This is for Mike Essig in response to Recent Headlines From SNS (Surrealist News Service)