This Looks Like Jump To Me

You are a cockroach you are a big cockroach crawling up a pegboard the kitchen light suddenly shines and you must get through to the other side but testing every evenly spaced hole you find your shoulders will never fit and to get away you've got to fall. fall or refuse to crawl and wait motionless until inspiration with an overview filters through or you die of hunger, lack of love, fear of death or the outlandish hands of another angry animal with a wisdom wiser but infinitely useless as your own. so you die. but now the big hands are gentle and you receive a respite of thoughtlessness and the garbage grave has warm chicken bones and you don't care what happens to you or the oldest species of proud recalcitrant insects or procreating it or foraging a grubby kitchen sink for food. the joy of making life is new. let go, and through the night be carried carelessly along.