In the Neighborhood of Verse

EARLY MORNING AWAKENING

It was 6:09 when I crept from bed.

Queen sheets often trip me but

I made it up and out of my room

to safety. I read too much I’ll grant

you that. You’d best quit reading this.

I’d seen a squib abut copperheads

in a closet nest, and I’d just read

about  more than a hundred species

of  arthropods found  in the average

home, listed for our pleasure surely:

a few spiders, millipedes, booklice,

silverfish, ants, midges, flies, rolypolys…

They didn’t count bedbugs because

too few—and of course the R word.

They weren’t counting snakes.

Back to me: I heard a click near my

ear.  Or was that a rattle? A presence

beside me in my bed!  Remember I’m

just waking up, emerging from dreams

to this!*                                         — Nan

*Although a house can feel empty when you’re the only one home, it isn’t really. A typical human household includes roughly 100 species of insects, spiders and other arthropods just milling around at the edges of the room, eating little bits of hair and dead insects. Rather than reaching for the bug spray, people should be excited that they live alongside so many other species ….Get to know your bug bunkmates, higher occurrence in more affluent homes.  (Compilation of wisdom from Google).

See articles from Atlantic, Mother Nature Network, N.C. State News, Time, Chicago Tribune and especially https://peerj.com/articles/1582/ (for a table of the bugs found).

About Nan Mykel

I used to think I would be a child prodigy, but then I got old. Formerly I had fantasies of rubbing elbows with cultural and academic leaders but that did not come to pass because I did not become a cultural or academic leader or any other kind of leader, for that matter. I am not even an "Alpha Dog," a term learned from a friend who had to become "Alpha Dog" in order to influence her own pet. (When gazes lock, she never looks away.) For years I expected to become a published author, but in passing I could not avoid the fact that I had little to contribute to the world's bulging dumpsters. I'm embarrassed to report that I also considered my primary process artistic productions powerful, rather than mildly neurotic. Which is not to say that I disrespect myself, only that I am beginning to doubt my potential for making a mark on the world. If I focus on strict self discipline I may be able to keep my garbage removed on a weekly basis, to keep the kitty box changed, the clothes cleaned, the dog watered, fed and walked, but that just catches me up to the starting mark again. When writing I physically grapple with words, wrestling them from their indifference into attempted chunks of awareness. I sit heavily on my chair; I breathe in artificially cooled air; my ear drums note the tap tap of the keyboard and the steady uninterrupted sound of the air conditioner, What is that sound? The roar of the ocean from 30 yards away...Inside, my thoughts are are balls in an electronic game machine, bouncing hither and yon from lever to lever. I am a little grim and intent until I recall a dream related by a black man in the prison where I once worked. He said that when he was a small boy, back home, he dreamed he was standing on his front porch pissing, and that he suddenly found himself pissing stars...
This entry was posted in A mixed bag, Hypnopompic and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to In the Neighborhood of Verse

  1. Frank Hubeny says:

    Instead of monsters under the bed there are a “hundred species

    of arthropods”. I didn’t know there were so many in one’s home. They keep us company.

    Like

  2. lynn__ says:

    I woke up in the middle of the night recently to feel something crawling on my arm. I frantically brushed it off, in the dark, so not sure but think it was a spider. Yikes!

    Like

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