Wrinkled cherub with your cherrywood harp,
you’ve subdued the bustle of this room,
eased the commotion of nurse and needle,
tourniquet and gurney. The best of us
just bored, the worse off cradling arms
like infants or pressing gauze to our heads
as if lost in contemplation, we’ll grant
you’ve elevated this space to something grand,
eternal, orchestrated a quaint limbo
from these rows of chairs and magazine racks.
But we’re here to be assured we’ll remain
tethered to our time, not to endure
this dour liturgy. We strain to hear
our names called, and someone with a clipboard
ask now what seems to be the problem?
BIO Kevin Casey is the author of And Waking… (Bottom Dog Press, 2016), and American Lotus, winner of the Kithara Prize (forthcoming, Glass Lyre Press). His poems have appeared recently or are forthcoming in Valparaiso Poetry Review, Rust+Moth, Pretty Owl Poetry, and Ted Kooser’s syndicated column ‘American Life in Poetry.’ For more, visit andwaking.com.