I follow one with my eye
It zigzags crazily until it reaches the wall,
Then plunges downwardly floorward.
I stare at the crack
My mind vacant, just wandering
I wonder if the house will fall down
I wonder if the crack continues through the earth.
Is there someone else staring
At the other end of my crack?
Lying on their back
Staring at the crack
In the ceiling.
My eye observes a cobweb in the corner
Mr. Spider at home sitting tight
I wonder what he thinks about
As he reposes all web-bound
Does he gaze back at me
And wonder what I think?
Or does he just squat there
All laid back
Staring at the crack
In the ceiling
(So we stare in tandem Mr. Spider and I. Will he soon leave me To become Mr. Spider and fly?)
I start to fantasise about my crack
If I levered it open what would I find?
It looks pitch black in my crack
Is it filled with alien worlds?
Fantastic surreal outlandish worlds?
Full of fantastical surreal alien beings
Who lay on their backs
Or what passes as their backs
And stare at the crack
In the ceiling.
MUDCROW
MAY23 1999
