The bass breathes
heavily in his ears,
the rhymes of rappers
tickling
his ticklish ear in melody,
in serenity,
while he leans back
in solace, in sighs,
eyes shut, sipping
some beer, and
continually falling
back as if the poor chair
were a cushioned bed,
horizontal-ready and steady,
but as his legs
unwind and unfurl like a snake,
to find support, to
find a damn footrest,
he realizes that none
exists, and like a tight
spring, his eyelids
bounce up and send
his hands scrambling
for a hold
as if they were
fighting an ambush,
but that quick second
window shut,
and he went into
free-fall, a second now
ten thousand years,
and after he saw the
fall of dinosaurs and
the rise of humans,
he hit his head on
the tile floor.
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