Thatcher, smitten

“Mirror, mirror”


to break itself

As the subject

of which it is the object

of desire approaches.



“Mirror, mirror”


Resisting the reflection

which fills it



“Mirror, mirror on the wall”

It tries to tremble

It tries to fall

“There is no society.

“I am your All.”

The strike is crushed.

The mirror resists no more.



The evil snow queen is defeated.  You have vanquished your tyrant.  When you think that they have gone, when you think you have got past it all, one morning they stare straight at you out of the mirror, just like you are there again with the faces under ice.

I have a poem about a kitten here.


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