While Everyone Celebrates
I do, too, but in a different way
For a Sunday afternoon
the town is eerily quiet.
There is not a human to be seen.
Not a single car is moving.
There are no birds chirping
and not a single dog is barking.
The scrunch of snow underfoot
is the only sound I hear.
It’s like a UFO came
and abducted the entire town.
Only the trees and buildings remain
and silent unmoving parked cars.
It’s like walking through a town
that has been completely deserted.
Like walking quietly through
the ruins of an archaeological site.
It’s like being the only human
left on the planet.
But I know better than that.
I know there was no horrible tragedy.
No cataclysm befell the people.
No plague killed them all.
It wasn’t the aliens who got them.
I knew that the people were still alive.
It’s just that they were all hiding inside,
their minds held captive.
Though the shades are all drawn
I know that inside there was still life;
somnambulant life, unknowing life,
people praying to their gods.
Thank goodness for Super Bowl Sunday!
I get the town and the world to myself.
As the human din is sequestered
the outside world falls silent.
The silence is almost too much to take;
too joyous, too exhilarating, almost orgasmic!
What a grand holiday this is!
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