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Friday, February 05, 2010

There are these spots

There are these spots on my ceiling.

Plainly speaking, they are
off-white patches where
the heads of nails were
mudded over, but not well sanded.

I opt to see them as
push-pins squashed when spat
on monochrome maps
to point me dippered ways outre-ward.

Their gap-tooth patterns micro-mimicking
constellations hap
my eyes to hazard
hopping through new belt hoops.

Then passed by barely habited worlds,
I wheel round orbits
molecularly
chained to collide, next time.

My neighbor's heavy steps fade out.

Francis Scudellari



This poem is written in response to Read Write Prompt #112: Narrative wallpaper at Read Write Poem. Rather than being inspired by what I found on my walls, I looked up to the ceiling.

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