The wisdom of the rabbits.
Alright, come in, and be quick about it. Yes I know,
the weather is always like that here.
Raining.
Just hand the cloak to Jacques, will you?
– he will take care of it.
Good evening, and welcome to my "mansion."
No doubt you hear the irony dripping from my lips
like poison, as they taste
the word.
I've been stuck in this shit-hole
for seven years now,
all thanks
to those damned rabbits.
Had an awful long tumble down the hole, didya? Welcome to wonderland.
No, I'm sorry ladies and gentlemen,
I will not introduce myself.
My name doesn't matter, and what little of my story
might be deemed of importance, shall be revealed to you at the proper time.
Or maybe not.
You'll have to forgive the rabbits in the sink, they simply can't help it.
They have to count, that's what keeps them alive.
Or maybe it isn't.
It's hard to tell these days.
By now you're probably wondering
why you're here.
It should please you to know, that I
am pondering
the very same question.
No matter how I approach this conundrum, no answer seems
willing to reveal itself
to me.
This town isn't really a place
people go to.
Or maybe it is.
It's hard to tell these days.
Do sit down, make yourself
comfortable, yes, you are most
welcome.
Listen.
Once you've listened long enough, you will start to hear
the wisdom
of the rabbits in the sink.
Their occasional moments of insight
are a little
frayed around the edges,
but pristine none the less.
I'm sorry, I almost forget
my manners for a moment.
Would you like something to drink?
Yes?
A cup of tea,
perhaps?
Of course.
No sugar?
Ah, excellent choice. Or maybe not. It's hard to tell these days.
The rabbits in the sink
have always been there. Indeed, they have always been "here",
in some sense of the word.
Always counting. "Forty-two, forty-one, forty-three, forty-two, forty-one"
Their words of wisdom holds
the key
to understanding the universe, but no one
understands them.
Yes, I quite agree.
One would presume that some warped layer of reason
or logic lies hidden
deep within the chasms of their
nonsensical counting.
Or maybe one wouldn't.
It's hard to tell these days.
Poetry by Lalando
Read 655 times
Written on 2009-10-23 at 16:52
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