After the Fall
I tiptoe ’round the coffee shop—
I fell there recently.
At home I grab the shower bar
As if it sought to flee.
A rumpled rug’s a Claymore mine
Concealed on battlefields.
A sidewalk thick with fallen leaves?
More slick banana peels.
The books I’ve piled around my desk—
The notebooks, magazines—
Are lying there to catch a toe,
They're accident machines.
On stairs, my friend’s the bannister—
I clasp it like a love
As I descend so cautiously
From rooms that lie above.
I must be very circumspect—
A fall, a break, a cast!—
But also there's the dismal thought:
Next fall could be my last.
I saw her at the Rathskeller—
Her looks made me a happy feller.
Shakespeare Couplet: A Midsummer Night’s Dream (45)
And Theseus asks, “What revels are at hand?”
They'll soon see “Pyramus”—in style so … grand? (5.1)