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As with Carroll's Alice, it came to pass
That I blundered through a looking glass.
It came to pass (and this I swear)
By looking back with an inward stare.
The mirrored image at an angle
Confused my thoughts in an awful tangle.
Right is left and up is down.
Every smile becomes a frown.
Back is front and in is out,
Every certainty becomes a doubt.
The doughnut and whole become the same
And painting's synonymous with frame.
My Self1 is confusion, Id knows
Not being confused, nor un composed.
A catastrophic synechdoche
Wherein all is none and none is me!
My fears are calmed by 'ifs' and 'buts, '
For there's no drug to soothe my guts.
A measure of fear can reassure
And even doubt can feel secure.
Time's awry, both Now and Then
While Future curves right back again.
It was and is nor yet will be
A vertical erected to all three.2
Adult and infant, in a bind
Struggle to form a reflective mind
Thus to gain some sanity
They'll make the glass a part of me!