What You’ve Lost

hands on the floor
feeling for something you might have lost
the distant ground
laughs at your disorientation
and scoffs at your temporary amnesia
opening up a hole
it would like you to accommodate

passersby threaten you with their height
incubating an neurotic exaggeration
invading the ground you wish to examine
with their infected footprints
and sluggish movements

you are deprived from air for long enough
to give up and sulk
becoming the placebo
to their provisional fortune

loose change
a piece of gum
a folded up scrap of paper with a reminder on it
it doesn’t matter what you’ve lost
someone else will find it
and claim it as their own