why are you talking to me?
can't you see my head is swirling?
look hard:
my head is buoying up and down,
side to side,
a whirring hurricane tsunami monsoon,
a whirlswirl,
a hot tub of Belgian hops
and tile-smooth, brewed water,
weighing more or less 3 tons,
all told.

surely this is visible?
this bobbing pogoing trampolining?
I'm a bungee jumper trying to
land on a dime (or the closest stool)
(pardon me, was that your lap?):
that is, if I can hold up my
water-logged head long enough
to follow my drowning feet to
my life raft, my wildly distant
resting table.

so please, stop trying to converse
and just kindly take
my arm and scoot me helplessly along.
much obliged.

01/27/2009

Author's Note: round town tonight.

Posted on 01/28/2009
Copyright © 2024 Eric Hinkle