this isn't the first time my ankles have failed me

the strings running along my bones are loose.
i fall down. sometimes i get back up.
last night, i didn't. my feet are all at odd angles.
the sun rose. my body greeted the morning
with powerful convulsions.

shopkeepers began putting out their signs.
not long after, i was found,
drug back northward again,
and given an unusually thick stack of newspapers,
about as tall as a child.

they tell me i forgot to read yesterday's papers as well.
they've taken my crutches.