Lately life has been giving me the bum’s rush
barreling me along, off my footing
on the edge of balance
a touch panicked
unable to settle or grab something stabile.
A trip, not a fall.
Grab the bar, get torn off.
Grab a stool, drag it along.
Door jam just tears the finger nails.
A hand on my neck
Twisted arm, folded wrist.
Asphalt and air.