Suffering From My Allergies And The Space-Time Continuum

I woke up
this morning
dizzy,

suffering
from my
allergies,

when lo and behold
Stephen Hawking
was flying

around the room
sans wheelchair,
contorted.

In his
mechanical
voice

he said,
“You’ve got
to do

something
about your problem,
I can’t

be doing this
everytime
you get dizzy!”

And I said,
“You crippled bastard,
get out of my life!”

Apparently
he did his calculations
and left.

I felt
better by
afternoon

though slightly bent
at the waist by the gravitational
pull of the Aztec sun.