Rabbitman in the Mirror

Episode finale, rerun suddenly stripped of all hope,
sloshing Cowgirl Creme and cracker, two cups of bean juice float,
nauseous from this twisted journey, not sure i want to cope.

Road's end plummets at the coastline, the aged lighthouse is so near,
but a fog on the staircase at Point Reyes interferes.
The stench of rotten barnacles, reminds of a clinging past,

the choices i've made unnerving, gastric surge now seems certain...
Rabbitman on the wall in 315, i know why you look at me in mirror,
wash these soiled crusty sleeves, draw again from this tricky hat.