Vertigo

This one is based on a certain amount of (recent) personal experience.

Vertigo 

Yes, it’s all part of the tour,

The thing we’re doing today.

We’ll shoot to the top of the tower,

In the bullet-like elevator,

The vomit-comet, they joke,

Up to the observation deck,

For the best view of the city.

It’s only ten dollars -

Can’t miss it – what the heck! 

Looking out through the windows,

Acres of armour-plated glass,

Protecting camera-toting tourists,

Who don’t think to be afraid.

It’s a matter of no moment,

To see how close they can get

To the outside world,

With its roaring wind,

And the edge of the parapet. 

And for a few dollars more,

There’s more adventure out there,

Beyond the doors on the sky-deck,

Walking outside of the rails,

Or even bungee-jumping,

Into the wild blue yonder,

With just a thin safety-harness,

That will set their hearts pumping. 

There’s laughing and joking,

Daring each other to look down,

Hundreds of feet to the ground,

Why live on the edge when you can jump off?

It doesn’t take any skill,

Just the bottle to defy gravity,

To stare danger in the face,

And experience the thrill. 

But I’m pinned against the back wall,

Legs heavy, like jelly,

Breathing shallow and thin,

Feet clamped hard to the floor,

Convulsed by a shake,

The very idea of falling,

Plummeting earthbound,

Is more than my nerves can take. 

The edge has a way of drawing me in,

Pulling my body towards it.

A total loss of control,

A force too strong to resist.

Coming up here today was an error,

My sense of balance is failing,

As I slide slowly to the floor,

Filled with feelings of terror. 

Clammy hands, sweating,

Mouth and throat dry,

Trembles and shivers increasing,

Sense of balance not trusted,

Dizzy, head spinning,

I can feel myself shaken.

Stuck here, transfixed,

Hanging on to the floor,

This spot is already taken. 

Get me out of here, away from this place,

Take me slowly to the earth again,

Past the chattering crowds,

The souvenirs, the momentos,

And the photograph-sellers.

Help me again to feel sound,

Till this vertigo vanishes,

The nausea passes,

And I’m back down on the ground.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012