The Rabbit Hole

Izzi withdrew the empty syringe
closed her eyes and breathed out

no longer burdened with maintaining the illusion
she spoke aloud to no one in particular…

Send me where I belong—Timothy Leary lied

passersby stared
a few asked if she needed help…

All I wanted was a Harley Davidson—
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaWore a mask too soon

…most kept their distance

sometime around midnight
Izzi laid down on the sidewalk
and sang herself to sleep

***

Leslie E. Hoffman is an independent copy editor who moonlights as a poet. Results of her midnight sojourns have appeared in The California Writers Club Literary Review; Third Thursdays, The Willow Glen Poetry Project; Mused, BellaOnline; Helen: FNS; and Nevada State College’s 300 Days of Sun. As an editor, Leslie enjoys giving back to the writing community by volunteering her skills in collaboration with the editorial teams of Writer’s Bloc, Henderson Writers’ Group, Nevada; The CWC Literary Review; and Caesura, The Journal of Poetry Center San Jose..