Wonderland

There is a fish standing in my bookshelf

and a book swimming in my pond.

The sugar is missing from the pantry,

replaced with an old boot.

And outside, the moon rises high,

while birds glow like stars, lighting up

a sky made of grass and sprinkled with flowers.

My neighbours have turned into cats

that wave, then chirp and chase after cow-birds

that moo disconcertedly.

A fork-tree rustles its silver in the wind,

and a car made of clouds drives past

with an angry honk.

(I tiptoe back into my empty house.

I think my eyes are on inside-out.

I think it’s time to go to bed.)