did Alice have a choice?

[i am the harbinger,
the bell that tolls]

whispers from the basement dirt of a deep dark
hole, you stand on the edge and in an illusion
of free will, you jump in feet first, then frantic
free falling out of control past
dark walls with eyes reminding constantly
you did this, you did this,
you, Alice, had a choice,

[bells swing their heavy bodies, laughing
from their deep dark depths]

the way this art makes me feel

the way this art makes me feel
i am then
like a swinging porch door creaking open and banging shut
teasing in anticipation of a cool stormy breeze
and i am then
the way lovers can exchange eyes and express a novel of fantasy
without words – without time
and i am
then this streak of paint hurriedly feasting on its own kind and laying back in
carnal exhaustion.