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Dizzy


I’m so

damn dizzy.

Quiz me what’s

up and my mind reels.

Feels like I’m a kid outside

on a bright day raising a

broom with two hands

straight up in the sky,

squinting up at it

and the sun

and spinning

round and round

and round, dropping

the broom to the ground

and trying to deer-leap over

it and falling down

on the lawn.

On cue,

the hounds

next door begin

barking. Harking back

to those olden days of vertigo,

I grip a broom and sweep

the sidewalk of grass

clippings and

memories,

dizzy

still.



By Tom Vandel

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