Looking Glass (for Babette)

“…Six impossible things
before breakfast,” says the queen,
assuring him that all’s not lost.
Nothing to make him disbelieve
that hope, like the sun’s long arm,
can’t reach into that dark corner
where his heard hides like a thief
& dry the mawkish tears on his cheeks.
Such childish tantrum
if his mind fails to consider
things unfortunate
could be the ace in solitaire.
Who knows the endgame of despair?
Fidel Castro confesses
he wouldn’t recognize
Socialism’s face
twenty years into the millennium
& she, who evades him like a plague,
may be the true disaster
he has been spared.
On the table
is Babette’s feast of SMS
for the able.

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