Stupor

By John Tustin. Published on March 3, 2023.

Another hurricane approaches

and perhaps an earthquake will arrive,

unannounced,

catching us with our pants

down around our ankles,

sitting on the bowl,

reading or more likely

watching bite-sized videos

on our bite-sized smart phones.

I don’t know –

the thought of it

doesn’t raise me from my stupor.

Dreams of legs and hips

and tits and asses and eyes;

fantasies of money in the bank

and then no longer waking up wondering

about next year and

then recalling the story of

The Grasshopper and the Ant;

no more trudging back and forth

both ways uphill

to the local sludge factory

to punch the clock and toil knee deep.

Not even sleeping in the afternoon

and looking forward to 6 P.M. coffee

can drag me from this crypt of morosity.

Another flood is possible after the hurricane

and perhaps a drought will follow in time,

us all the time wondering

why God plays practical jokes on those

He made in His own image

as if it’s all marked on his calendar in the sky.

Thoughts of growing old

all alone but for six cats

and a mountain of books to read

and a big comfy bed both warm and cool

does not even revive me

from this byzantine and mazy malaise.

John Tustin’s poetry has appeared in many disparate literary journals since 2009. fritzware.com/johntustinpoetry contains links to his published poetry online.