Thursday, July 27, 2017

I Wobble

I wobble and I wiggle and I spin,
Not making sense of things, not making friends,
Unable to think clearly. Not the bends,
Just ordinary dizziness: too thin,
My blood won't reach my brain. The state I'm in
Resembles deep imbalances, extends
To somewhere near the spot where all time ends.
I hear no sound, a harsh, inchoate din.

Who are these people, and what is this place?
How does this taste? When did I feel that touch?
Could I hear music? Did I have a crutch
To help me wobble past that empty space
Where I smelled garlic, thyme, sage, cloves, and mace?
I've made my piece with knowing not so much.


Post a Comment

<< Home