have i been here?

the bad rabbit would like some carrot. he starts shoving his wiggly little nose in all the corners of the room. something smells like carrot. a blind mortician comes out of the closet, groping and yelling about the noise. the bad rabbit gets real scared and hops out the open window and across the ocean of dandelions waving like spectator sea anenome. they don't mind. but i'm stuck here, with the myth of the blind, holding my breath and praying to god he goes back in the closet. "GODDAMN CARROTS" he screams, throwing over the kitchen table. a few half-full plates of spaghetti topple over, crash, crash; they turn to ostrich eggs. the eggs begin to hatch, releasing small beady-eyed crocodiles. one egg takes a particularly long time unfolding and out of it hatches the bad rabbit. he's wearing one of those mystery man glasses and mustache combinations like hes some sort of harriet the spy. the kids are all upstairs on the top bunk playing some hybrid adult form of mary poppins goes to the doctor. they have all the silverware in the bed and bad rabbit is pissed because he needs the carrot peeler but he didn't make an appointment. he starts shitting little marble turds all over the goddamn flowered linoleum. I begin to follow him around with a little fairy wand broom and silver ashtray because i can't find the dust pan, but he starts hopping faster, ahead of me, shitting with every bounce and i can't keep up. suddenly i am aware of the neighbors at the window with their dirty noses and pink clammy hands pressed up against the freshly washed glass.