Tonight's Poet Corner: Klutz
Klutz
by Belinda Roddie
I fell up the stairs today -
it's true, it was a momentary lapse
of coordination. Twice, I barreled
forward like a descending aircraft
in the artillery shower of second doomsday.
At least my knees were scathed, though
one of my calves was not.
The crowd all stared, not a hand offered
to lift me from from yellow-painted
embarrassment. What a metaphor it is:
to plummet facefirst while climbing
upward, Heaven's mocking smile
above your head as you sink, quagmires
sucking away at your bruised ankles
and laughing as you file a meaningless
injury report to mask your chagrin.
by Belinda Roddie
I fell up the stairs today -
it's true, it was a momentary lapse
of coordination. Twice, I barreled
forward like a descending aircraft
in the artillery shower of second doomsday.
At least my knees were scathed, though
one of my calves was not.
The crowd all stared, not a hand offered
to lift me from from yellow-painted
embarrassment. What a metaphor it is:
to plummet facefirst while climbing
upward, Heaven's mocking smile
above your head as you sink, quagmires
sucking away at your bruised ankles
and laughing as you file a meaningless
injury report to mask your chagrin.
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