id in the basement

who opened the door
for david? he stood in
the dank basement. he
stood

by the open door, david
among the inconsistent
murmur, of the heavy
furnace, heavy as a
murky spider in the thronging
corner,

david

stood upon the open door-
the spider
works like
a light in
the evening,
from far away
off the treeline,

but eyed david,
his dark eye. the
high lit mountain
stood forward like a door,
an open door

someone had, before a while passed,
told david that the basement
was built before the rest of the house, it had
been volcanic, lying dormant beneath
the mossy wood-brown earth,

wasps had
hived about it,
laying

dormant, against
the heavy furnaced
gloomy walls-

and david stood
upon the open door. he said something about scope. the polarity
of just

who
had

opened it and the wasps under david's hand,
like small
black mountains in the
vulcan basement