Beneath me fall the sands.
Of time? No,
just natural rocks that crumble
below, passing between
the narrows of glass,
my precarious stance viewed
by giants who stare
at my clownish steadying.

This floor has never been stable
and my feet struggle to find
purchase a spectacle for indifferent
authority,
their glasses hang crooked,
noses hooked, mouths parted as lips
form curious smiles,
my flailing a failing,
as I fight these extremities.