Worn floor. One step down to laundry & mud. Two to spare room. Along the seam a ridge dizzied by lack of craft. A marble lost, rolling like a pitched plank. A stern rebuke to waves. Seasick, walk this uneven floor. Pity those who, trapped, can’t evade the slippery slope, no matter how oblique the angle.
/ / /
A FINE KETTLE OF FISH 