Mental Wanderland (Through the Windshield Glass)
The car idles in the drive-thru He talks but I don't really listen Through the windshield glass a crescent grin leers out of the night sky the outline of a cat body almost discernable in the glow surrounding it Beware the Jabbertalk , it says the tongue that wags the teeth that clack I laugh out loud disrupting the flow of monologue He asks what is so funny "Nothing," I reply. "You were saying?" As his discourse continues the Cheshire moon chimes in And shun the verbose box of chat I stifle another laugh but he is distracted paying at the window "Did you hear that? They don't have any salt. Do you still want it?" he says I answer yes without looking away from the moon It shouts, Don't need salt, need pepper, more pepper! I smile to myself He stops talking and hands me my drink I look over at him so classy in his black fedora for a moment I think He's the mad hatter Then I say "Let's go. We're late."