poetry texts, poem archive at plagiarist.com

            
  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 . . .

Added: 18 Feb 2002 | Last Read: 4 Sep 2026 1:47 AM | Viewed: 4786 times

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