No longer
An acceptable response no longer:
Torpor has been struck from the catalog
Grocery stores are cleared of decaf coffee—
They want us to stay awake at this time
The climes call us outside—
Planting season in the Northern hemisphere and crisp Autumn in the South
As for that Roku
It should be put into its own torpor every once in a while
I feel that I’m waiting in a dusk-decked vestibule
As if for the gates of the locks to open—for a
Gust of spirit that channels the suppressed joys of the nations
I am waiting for time capsules to open
For their contents to start up a chant
This poem was published in issue VIII of the
Heron Clan
anthology.
Andy Oram
May 10, 2020
More poems