Please, please attend my party. There will be tea & strumpets galore!
There will be endless diatribes without 1 door prize!
And the Caterpillar’s hookah shall be passed to Enlighten thee
as I & Miss Dormousy scream & dream of me, me, ME!
I promise, you will be most Deelighted by MY delightfulness!
The MadMadMad Hatter’
poor Alice sighed as she glared at the invitation just delivered.
(Just how many days of the year were there in this UnWonderful
UnBirthdayland of thoughtless Twit & Twat?)
That Hatter! His persistence was only matched by his arrogance.
Quite mad & quite maddening!
Would it ever end?
For, on her sublimely short roll of those she despised
with the utmost fury & purest of disdain,
he and his lushy lousy Dourmousy were tiptops on
‘The Wretched Few Who Make My Skin Crawl’ list!
How could it have come to this?
Didn’t those so undroll & beneath contempt see
that she preferred to pretend that they DID UnExist?
After all, an UnBirthday invitation was a bit redundant
if one never existed wasn’t it?
Or was it all relative to her relativity of being cognizant of them?
Oh bother, curiouser & curiouser how confusing things could be
when dealing with such ridiculous beings
made up of delusions and dichotomies & pretensions and falsities
& every old and new found stupid stupidity.
“Just smoke & ash & garbled trash, my dear”, the Rabbit always cringed
as he read their warbled words written on paper tiger skins.
With a flip of her wrist she tossed the vile invitation into the bin labeled ‘DRIVEL’
filled with all the other putrid messes of poetic pontifical professes.
“There, that’s that! You inane insane arse-kissing hypocrite Mad Hat!
Since you and your ratty rat do not exist, your non-existent
PitTea party I shan’t even need to miss!”.
*Claire Rosen, artista, fashion shooting, her version of Alice in Wonderland