I slammed against the exterior side casings
That centered the door frame
Braced myself on aged wood
Gave Up the Ghost-
And wrinkled knuckles
“Don’t black out,” I said.
But collapsed with my forehead
Striking the edge of a side jamb
That it wasn’t time for censorship.
Joe strolled in through the front entrance
Framing the air
With a scent of reliable death.
“You alright?” He questioned.
“Yeah, just almost blacked out.”
“Why?” He said.
“I don’t know,” I replied
Like an ambitious paraplegic.
Unaffected by vertigo
I sat down at a tax funded computer,
At the local library
Decided to check the news.
The explanation for the blackout
Retained a bit of clarity
As I read the announcement:
Scott Walker to Suspend Campaign.
The intelligence of the body
Develops a Sixth Sense
To be harmonious with the universe
When splendid information
Mine was just preparing me by saying:
“You’re going to want to sit down
As I tell you this…”