I Step From One Painting Into Another

All my life I've stepped from one painting into another I have been Icarus, falling into the sea While the traffic rumbles on around me I have been a shadow in Constable's Haywain Still life, a frozen observer I have been the hollow bones of a dead bird In a poultry shop, strung up like a slung sack In a field of corn, I have stretched my hand towards A farmhouse, my home once, tenanted now by strangers I have slept, as an incubus squatted on my stomach In a Fuseli nightmare Pictures suck me in like quicksand, deep to their very core