I stare up
It stares down
My hazel lidded eyes
It's pale popcorn frown
We are both dated and old
In need of renovation
Neither one of us
Deserving of a standing ovation
Sleep still encrusts
The edges of my eyes
I wipe it away
Crunchy little pseudo styes
Abbreviated bungee jumps
Of dusty cobwebs
Adorn many of the popcorn bumps
Like an old man's sparse thinning hair
As a child I'd lay abed
And pretend the world was upside down
I'd have to step over headers
To go room to room
Going floor to floor
Required a skillful
Stairwell ceiling slide
Fancy ceiling trim
Became exquisitely curved baseboard
Light fixtures transformed
To abstract art installations
Protruding from the new floor
Usually in center room
Eventually
All the blood would rush to my head
I'd have to sit up
And turn reality back up
Walking off on my carpeted ceiling
To brave the unknown of outside
Perhaps to cling to trees and grasses
To avoid the gravity of space
The vacuum sucking at my body
And all earth's gasses
I feel motivated
To scrape the popcorn from the ceiling
Not in the push to modernize
But for the off chance
I might not have shoes on
When next my world flips upside down
And I have to walk on that surface
The bottoms of my feet
Will thank me for it
If that lumpy finish isn't there to pulverize
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