I curse
my mind, sadist to my kneeling brain. Drained of
energy, muscles fight, strain to stand. The earth went
on without me, spun around again to light. Get cereal.
Make coffee. Fight


eyelids. Look at the yard. I envy the ivy. To crawl down under
those green arrowheads, to stay unseen in the all-day shadows,
a quiet neighbor to spiders and moles. To stretch straight under
quaking vines and see the sky blink when the wind blows.


There’d be no sign of me under the giant pine. Pressed against the
grass, crawl in increments of inches into that small space between
the lowest branches and the ground. To anyone around I’d stay
invisible, flat on spongy needles, enveloped by the scent and shade.


I could trade the world for that space under the porch behind the
trellis. Fall in love with the smell of rotten leaves and must. Maybe
sleep beside the ancient Frisbee. Curl up between the cold smooth
dirt and the weight of the house in the wooden planks above.


I could shove myself on hands and knees into the eaves, dark
arcade of oak, a cloud of odor like old books. The slightest
shift in weight would create small dust clouds. Wings of webs
would connect me to floor and roof.


Cleared out, there might be enough room under the kitchen sink.
Chin to knee, bent like a question mark, hear the faucet’s
infrequent drip, feel cold metal, taste rust. Savor closed
eyes in the comfort of the cupboard’s cold dank air. But
it’s not where


it’s when. And there seems to be no end to the
brain’s simmering boil. It runs like a motor low
on oil, burns and scrapes. The pistons begin to
seize. Things get slow but somehow go on. My
thoughts snake the house for places I know I’d
not be found. The attic, a closet? No, too easy. It
doesn’t matter, my body takes my mind’s side.
It doesn’t matter what place I take. I
could hide, but I’d
be hiding wide awake.

I loved this poem. It was a little sad, but I can relate.

(((myanimalc)))

beautiful and soporific warm milk?

love this, excellent write!

this is a wonderful write

Thank you:
Mega
shortie
Harold
bastet
kc