The Hole in the Floor

The discovery of a small hole in the floor that becomes a way inside yourself

The Hole in the Floor

By Robert Gagnon

There is a tiny hole in the floor

Near the corner of the living room

I keep thinking

An ant will wiggle out of there

At anytime

Explaining in its rigid gate

The queen lives here

She must be fed

She must be protected

But it never happens

Was it simply formed

Maybe

By a very small loose knot in the board

Shaken furiously by jumping children

Pretending to launch themselves

From a boat

Onto a fluffy island

Because there are sharks in the water

Then shaken jarringly

By my hard way of walking

And her stomp

As she makes a point 

Worth driving a foot to the floor

Popping it loose 

To fall to the basement

Being forever placed in the dark corner

After quietly kicking it against the wall

Moving a box full of pictures on top of it

Unnoticed because of its stature

As well as the inability for those pictures

Brought down from the attic

To unleash a formed word

That would tell you

Of the injustice

Brought upon that small knot of wood

From the floor above

By the way

These photos were stuck together

By wildly alternating moments

Of intense heat and

Unbearable cold

Embarrassingly I should mention

That I am sitting near this opening

Feeling my past is within it

There is exhalation

Slowly leaking out

I am catching slight vapors of childhood

Or the bar I used to hang out in

When I was in my 20's

Could something this irrelevant

Truly be a portal in time

Where I was sluggishly forming

In the residue 

Being carried on that slight flow

Coming from the breach

Eventually I find I am sitting next to me

A wispy image

Whose umbilical is still connected

To the little hole

It’s forming words I recognize

But have a hard time hearing

It smiles and laughs

Which creates a very weird lightness

In my belly

Reminding me of my father

In the way it just gives in to the humor

Fully

It cries

Angrily shaking tears from its face

I am shaken by the authenticity of it

As transparent as it is

There is no sound from it

Beyond what I create for it inside

I decide it is there for me to inhale

I lean toward it

Moving my head within its boundaries

I begin taking

Calculated, long and deep breaths

Letting it slide in the nose

Settling throughout

This ritual was calming

Pleasant

I felt right about how this ended

I now only see

A hole in the floor

Without

Any expectation of it

Reviews

[NonnieK]

This is really a wonderful excursion... I will never view a hole in the floor the same way again. Bravo.

[Dr. Wood ?]

What a fascinating journey I have just taken...quite wonderful. Your imagination quite obviously knows no bounds