The Incident

A news response poem

Momentary lightheadedness. 
That’s it. That’s all it is. Suddenly, 
I am frozen in time, stopped 
in my tracks. I hear a pause, 
a gasp, everyone staring 
in my direction. I am suspended.

Can you repeat the question, 
I say. The room is so noisy, 
a loud din reverberating 
in my ears like a dinner bell. 
It’s difficult to focus, so I gaze 
at a spot on the wall across
the room. I try to remember 
the question but I am dizzy. 
Someone grasps my arm 
and whispers in my ear: 
Are you alright?

Please remove your hand 
from my arm, I say, but words 
do not emerge from my mouth. 
There is a buzz of disquieted 
mumbling around me, about me. 
I want to tell these people to stop 
jostling me, to stop using that low, 
condescending tone. I want to tell 
them I have seen so much 
in my time, lived through wars, 
floods, eclipses, babies born 
and grown, sickness, death, 
collapse of empires, so please 
do not speak to me like a child. 
I say, look here, I simply need 
a moment to catch my breath, 
collect my thoughts. But again,
I realize I am not talking out loud. 

This scene is so familiar, a room,
faces, hands waving. I’ve been 
here before, I know it, I have
a feeling of deja vu, a memory 
of commanding, of the crowd 
applauding, of everyone gazing 
at me with reverence and respect. 
But now someone says to step 
this way, come with them. They say 
this in a voice tinged with pity, 
a concerned murmur. I do not 
want to follow them. I am the one 
who guides, who takes others 
by the arm. I am the one who leads. 
But the momentary lightheadedness 
persists. I am faint, and slightly afraid 
now. Because I am still not sure 
of where I am.

Readers: A few people have inquired if this was an incident that happened to me and am I okay. No, this did not happen to me. I appreciate your concern. This poem was written in after reading this week’s news coverage of Mitch McConnell “freezing” again at a press conference. That incident and conversations about aging, relevance, and fitness to work made me think about what it feels like to be the one needing assistance.

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I’m proud to be a member of the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative. Please consider reading and supporting our members:

Laura Belin: Iowa Politics with Laura Belin, Windsor Heights

Doug Burns: The Iowa Mercury, Carroll

Dave Busiek: Dave Busiek on Media, Des Moines

Iowa Writers’ Collaborative, Roundup

Steph Copley: It Was Never a Dress, Johnston

Art Cullen: Art Cullen’s Notebook, Storm Lake

Suzanna de Baca: Dispatches from the Heartland, Huxley

Debra Engle: A Whole New World, Madison County

Julie Gammack: Julie Gammack’s Iowa Potluck, Des Moines and Okoboji

Joe Geha: Fern and Joe, Ames

Jody Gifford: Benign Inspiration, West Des Moines

Rob Gray: Rob Gray’s Area, Ankeny

Nik Heftman: The Seven Times, Los Angeles and Iowa

Beth Hoffman: In the Dirt, Lovilla

Dana James: New Black Iowa, Des Moines

Pat Kinney: View from Cedar Valley, Waterloo

Fern Kupfer: Fern and Joe, Ames

Robert Leonard: Deep Midwest: Politics and Culture, Bussey

Letters from Iowans, Iowa

Tar Macias: Hola Iowa, Iowa

Alison McGaughey, The Inquisitive Quad Citizen, Quad Cities

Kurt Meyer: Showing Up, St. Ansgar

Wini Moranville: Wini’s Food Stories, Des Moines

Jeff Morrison: Between Two Rivers, Cedar Rapids

Kyle Munson: Kyle Munson’s Main Street, Des Moines

Jane Nguyen: The Asian Iowan, West Des Moines

John Naughton: My Life, in Color, Des Moines

Chuck Offenburger: Iowa Boy Chuck Offenburger, Jefferson and Des Moines

Barry Piatt: Piatt on Politics Behind the Curtain, Washington, D.C.

Dave Price: Dave Price’s Perspective, Des Moines

Macey Spensley: The Midwest Creative, Iowa

Larry Stone: Listening to the Land, Elkader

Mary Swander: Mary Swander’s Buggy Land, Kalona

Mary Swander: Mary Swander’s Emerging Voices, Kalona

Cheryl Tevis: Unfinished Business, Boone County

Ed Tibbetts: Along the Mississippi, Davenport

Teresa Zilk: Talking Good, Des Moines

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