on cleaning my storeroom, a gecko..

This is a series of poems that I wanted to do for some time, but keep shelving it because 1) I am feeling lazy 2) thought it wasn't a good idea. I am writing about what happens when I try to clean up my storeroom.

Of course the storeroom didn't get much of a cleaning. That's to be expected when poetry got in the way.


image by dsnake1
from a photo from the Net


gecko



it waddles
        on
         the
         dust
        coated
        wall
      defying
      gravity

   taking its sweet
       sweet
        time
         then
        it turns
         its head
         its black
     beady eyes seem to say
           l o o k
          we survive
          millions of
            years
             you
           reptile


and
i could only
get angry
and
wave
my rolled up
newspaper
at it.


03/08/07
********