Disorientation
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October 1, 2023
For Edward Ibeh's Pick-A-Title, Vol 39 Poetry Contest
I’m racing down flights of stairs.
More and more of them appear
as I search for something recognizable.
I run back up them
and then to the opposite side of the building.
The room I want – wasn’t it on the northeast side?
But it’s not there.
After what seems like an interminable amount of time
racing around this giant building
which is swallowing me up in
its limitless labyrinth of hallways,
I still see nothing that looks familiar to me.
When was it renovated? It’s completely changed!
If only I could recall the number of the room
for my important interview.
I am a crazed and shrunken Alice in Wonderland -
a Wonderland that has become my nightmare.
And still I am running about gripped by panic
as foreboding creeps through my body.
I can no longer depend on my memory of this building
from over twenty years ago.
I don’t even know the floor I need.
Was it the eighth or the eighteenth, or
something in between?
How could I have left my phone at home?
All the information I need is on my phone.
and there’s absolutely nothing I can do.
As I move along new corridors,
I open doors to rooms, from which strangers’ faces
stare blankly back at me.
I have no information for which I can even
formulate a question.
Any room inside this nightmare building
could be the room I seek,
for I completely forgot its number
and I was told it was a random room
not part of the department.
I glance at a clock, realizing I am much too late
to continue this relentless quest.
How can my memory of this place
have become so dim?
I step into an elevator, pressing basement level.
Hopefully, I’ll remember at least
where I parked my car.
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2023
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