Only Nixon could go to Wonderland,

could sit back and phase into a leather

back and armrests, wandering through

the American dream. The red queen

fears this dandy Nixon as he skips

and leaps through the forest, letting

them eat cake, and in so doing grow

to suck all the oxygen out of the room.

Nixon is mad, paranoid, Nixon is both

raven and writing desk, we’re all Nixon

here. Nixon raises a dance finale through

the great hall, ladies sweep through with

yellow parasols and long cigarettes with

holders, hey hey, tweedle dee dee, tweedle

dee dum, can we twirl through this thing like

brothers, Nixon is in Wonderland now, let’s

just call it a day and play a little table tennis.

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