Froggacuda's Weblog

laying face down on my bed
hoping for an earthquake
dreaming of what’s going on
on the floors beneath me:
a young lady undressing,
a piano playing below that,
worms tunneling under
the creaky foundation;
small roots in the hard dirt,
then maybe rock and water,
occasionally pockets of other stuff.
deeper and deeper, it’s hot
and the earth starts to melt.
so I wake up and turn over
to stare at my ceiling.