Skull

14. Aug 13, 2021

I’m sitting here trying to think of a poem,

My skull a great echoing cave

With something the size of a cat’s brain on the floor,

Though not so efficient.

I’m pacing up and down in my large white cave

With elegant arches and two windows to peer out of,

Trying to find the sinuses

So I can slide down the hard palate

And out.

I’ll climb up to one of the windows

And sit there, looking out into the world,

Watching for an idea to appear in the distance

And be ferried in on strong bats’ wings.

Or grow like a mushroom on the floor of the cave.

I’ll build a bedroom in the back,

A lovely four-poster with cerise and purple

Quilts embroidered with gold and pearls

And use a nice multidimensional

Reversing wormhole for my dreams.

At the front behind one of the windows

Will be my library;

And behind the other window my observatory.

Or I could spurn this bony luxury,

Step to the edge of the eye-socket

And jump.

*

I quite like this one — my fantasy home.