"It's Your Decision."

I am not so sure of things anymore.
It seems they have receded from me
Or have put on layers and layers and asked me to call again later.

The uncertainty of traffic lights is hard to watch,
Recalling as it does the tightness of a strap or belt.
So I wait on pavement edges, allowing the climb
Of my pulse from my heart to the nerve knot of my brain.

Drizzle and rivalry have become my fault
And my fault is the great bent spider
Creeping terrible out of the fruit bowl.

Things, I think, are watching me judgementally,
Til that time comes where, for want of surety of the floor,
I fall to my knees and start shrieking mindlessly.
For now, I am reciting, with increasing desperation,
The alphabet, over and over and over.