Rude Awakening

We don’t question the engine which starts with

The turn of a key in the morning. On autopilot

We make our way to work each day. You ought

To know, you’ve done these things for years.

Without question you expect that the dawning

Of another day will follow midnight. Sleep-

Walking is what you’re used to doing most days.

It may be the little things sometimes which force

You open your eyes. Yet, when the roof is blown

Off the house you act surprised. (The attachment

Came with no guarantees.) It was that ambitious

Woman in the upstairs apartment vacuuming at

8 AM this morning, the sound of that deep throb-

Bing machine which startled my dog into barking.

For her, there was something monstrous going

On above. I envisioned a ravenous beast devouring

Crumbs from the carpet for breakfast. Where that

Leads me today I cannot say. I do know, however,

That there is a satiated Hoover resting somewhere

In a dark closet upstairs. For now, the early morning

Quiet has returned. I’m guessing the woman who fed

Her disquieting whirring device so early in the morning

Has gone off to work. Weird as it may appear, something

Different triggered my imagination today. You may be

Asking, how in hell would I know it was a Hoover in

Action upstairs? Or what’s more, it begs the deeper

philosophical question, what kind of idiot would try

Making a poem out of such a banal thing? Most days,

One never knows for certain what it will take.

Chris Hanch 4-12-17