Today, I woke up not-me, Alice-ish, peering

through kaleidoscope binoculars, except they
weren’t binoculars but a queer sort of tunnel 
and tiny, swirling, at its end, were my
elephant-gray walls, at least, theoretically,
for I have no elephants and, well, the
walls (and elephants) cannot be mine if
I am no longer me, can they?
My head seems to have floated off like a
hot air balloon, my fingers and toes
are all funny bones, my right knee confessed
it has swapped with my wrong one— in fact I
quite believe all my joints are loose!
I must say it is difficult to remember to lock
doors and make lunch when Nothing is
so extraordinarily captivating. Was it always 
so fuzzy? Certainly I’d’ve noticed if it was.
How pleasant it would be if I’d discovered 
Nothing earlier!
I admit, I feel rather hollowed, as if some-
body or spirit else could slip right inside. It
is odd going without myself but still I think
I’d rather NOT be myself, just yet. Perhaps
YOU’D like to try?