We’re All Mad Here
by Marisca Pichette
Why did Alice cross the street?
Broken teacups in her wake,
baby blue dress torn
cesarian scars,
red light puddles looking
like rabbit holes to nowhere.
Punchline: she crossed to stop herself
from running, she crossed
to hide her tears
(cry an ocean to drown in);
she crossed hoping
none would follow.
Late, Alice.
Later than law allows.
Later than blood spotting
cramped relief
—click button, red
monthly lucky at last,
just a week, not
39.1—her life.
Cross, Alice! Turn around
check for cards (suits),
[foot][men], heels hot—
did you smile as you fell?
Or did you scream—
not afraid (always)
not powerless (nearly)
covering up your youth
with the only mask you
have left.
Welcome to Wonderland, final girl.
White dress red
door too small—
squeeze your assets through
& join us in acrylic
splendor.
Don’t smile,
don’t cry salt to sting
your wounds
—they belong up there, not here—
here, nothing but the impossible
may break.
Sit with us & know:
we’re all mad here.
Roses waft rage,
rabbits refuse
to die.
Look in the teapot & find
gin & espresso, tamper-free.
Check under your chair,
dear Alice
& heft the weapons we left you—
distaff (iron, red)
musket (saltpeter, sobbed)
handbag (laden, righteous)
sword (light as lashes)
Alice of the night,
Alice refusing to break
no matter how many times
you fall
you hold growth in your left hand
—the only half of the cake you thought
to keep—
and in your right:
you’re mad as hatters,
mad as a rabbit before
the test,
mad as they never meant
to make you.
Cross back, Alice.
Look back,
see the punchline now:
Street’s full, not empty.
Skirts mop puddles
into stepping-stones.
And you climb, Alice,
you climb out of a grave
evading all the hearts who tried
to paint you, label you red
when your color longed
to bleed.
Mad you go, mad you leave us
gossamer gorgeous ghosts.
Mad you grow,
standing your ground
planting defiant feet
on ground we never left
unsown.
Marisca Pichette is a queer author based in Massachusetts. More of her work appears in Strange Horizons, Clarkesworld, Vastarien, The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, Fantasy Magazine, Nightmare Magazine, and others. Her Bram Stoker and Elgin Award-nominated poetry collection, Rivers in Your Skin, Sirens in Your Hair, is out now from Android Press. Find them on Twitter as @MariscaPichette, Instagram as @marisca_write, and Bluesky as @marisca.bsky.social.