Dear Alice…

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Oh Alice.

There are some who would call us lewd,
my kindred, for our admiration
of these dome-capped sentinels,
our arduous prostrations
somehow deviant (or provocative).

Oh Alice.

Still others will point to
dear Lewis’ penchant for
their psychotropic disposition
as reason for your very existence,
and for my own fascination here, too.

Oh Alice.

If they only knew our true motivation,
why we take to bended knee thus.
That it be not sex or drugs,
but homage to these fertile spirits
who rock with creativity,
and roll our imaginations.

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4 thoughts on “Dear Alice…

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