Down here on the ground, we have good
perspective. We have eyes to see in watery mirrors
our spindled legs, hopes jointed at the knees.
We know what's up—

windy birds, squirrel missiles, drop-torture
of rain, treaded nuance of sneakers. This doesn't
make us say mantis prayers at night.
We don't bother

looking for a better job. Let the caterpillar
make his round fuzzy investments. The way we see it,
all grass is the same. Any blade we polish will bend
for the cricket.

Why sand up our tunnels, sit caved in
our thoughts, scratch thoraxes one leg after another?
Why tune our antennae to futility waves?
We like to take risks—

we are fine dark comedians. Every crumb's
an arena; we make stars of ourselves. Life is concrete
and mud. Any way that we face it, our future's
microscopic—but our vision is clear.

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Laura Polley

Laura Polley is a poet and essayist about to embark on the pursuit of her MFA. Her poetry has been published in Crescent Moon Journal, and her fiction in Mississippi Review online. She has an essay forthcoming in the print journal Alimentum. She lives in Indianapolis, Indiana.

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© 2006 Laura Polley