Piker Press — Weekly Journal of Arts and Literature
April 20, 2026

Vertigo

By Bruce Morton

Vertigo

So it begins,
With slow spins.
The head becomes light
The loss of balance slight,
Fuzzy, nothing quite right.

It will happen again,
But I do not know when.
Awaken to a room whirling,
Projected time wheeling,
No end no beginning.

Then it subsides
And equilibrium abides.
Head and world are still,
In synch, embracing, until
I imagine I am stable.








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2 Reader Comments
Gary Bekken
01/21/2026
11:50:05 AM
Glad that's never happened to me!
Anonymous
01/25/2026
11:26:28 AM
Yup. Been there, done that. Hate it. And it is disconcerting to know that it is going to happen again. Nice job of capturing the experience.
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