After all, playing Tetris I'm a whiz;
tying my tie or my shoe, I very seldom make mistakes;
and I married the Prom Queen,
though she weighs two hundred pounds now;
so it's a stretch to say I've failed at everything.

Then Bob walking by pointed at me: "That fella's having a      fit,"
though I was entirely motionless in my chair,
while Bob, who never looks closely proceeded down the      aisle.
Within minutes, the company nurse and the company      lawyer
came running to help me to my feet.

"I'm all right," I shouted. The nurse jotted down:
"concussion - slight, fever - slight, some memory loss,      disorientation,"
all of which were exaggerated on my chart,
but she got the name completely wrong, so I let it pass.

Under that name I signed in five places for the lawyer.

Nevertheless, I had recovered totally by the time
the security guards escorted me off the premises,
telling me to take the bus, but my car was in the parking lot.
"These are all assigned spaces," the sergeant said.
"This is my space," I answered, turning the ignition.
And I drove out the back way heading home, this early day,
maybe to catch my wife in some indiscretion.

Stanley J. Solomon, in addition to poetry, has also published fiction, nonfiction, and drama in such publications as Prairie Schooner, Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, Modern Age, Beloit Poetry Review, MLA's Profession, and University Review. He has published three books on film. Currently, he is working on a poetry book about the history and esthetics of narrative painting.