The floor is something we must fight against. Whilst seemingly mere platform for the human stance, it is that place that men fall to. I am not dizzy. I stand as a tower, a lighthouse; the pale ray of my sentiency flowing from my face.
But should I go dizzy I crash down into the floor; my face into the floor, my attention bleeding into the cracks of the floor.
Dear horizontal place, I do not wish to be a rug. Do not pull at the difficult head, this teetering bulb of dread and dream . . .
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11/25/2009 2:25:36 PM. #.34# You Are Here:
The Floor by Russell Edson