I like to look into dark corners
Where you scrape away the dust
And find a paper clip
Where you shine a torch
And a white starving spider
Clambers away to safety
I like to look into dark corners
Where the broom cannot go
Is something living there
Hiding in a shadow
Where a dead hollow fly
Spins around on its back
And a small dice from a Ludo game
Turns up
I would like to find
Something special
But there never is
There’s a farthing
That my granddad lost
A hairclip
From my mother’s perm
A receipt from a shop till
Then you dream that you wake up
In that same dusty corner
And you crawl like a baby
Into a valley made for children
Or you spin in the dust
And when you come to a stop
You are pointing at a door
