I forgot my book. At the fountain stairs. At a chapter on symmetry. Nobody cares. And I had a smoke. While I traced the squares. Put my finger to concrete. Felt the autumn air. When I look around. I can feel it spinning. Feet on the ground. Head on the ceiling. Sun on my shirt. Sweat on my hands. All falling in retrograde. Cancel all my plans. And I had to look. At the marching band. Skip across the pavement. Nobody's there. When I look around. I can feel it spinning. Feet on the ground. Head on the ceiling