Cereal Aisle Spin

The fluorescent hummed, a flat white sound

above the bright-boxed rows of grain.

I reached up high, and then the ground

just shifted, like a sudden rain

of static in my head. The lights

went blurry, edges soft and deep.

The boxes swayed, like distant kites.

A kind of sick and dizzy leap

inside my chest. I grabbed the shelf,

the cardboard rough beneath my hand.

A fragile balance, by myself,

in this bright, ordered, tilting land.

Just a quick breath, a tightening grip.

A silent, small, unsettling slip.