Powerless
The screens go blank,
the lights go dark,
the hum and click
of the refrigerator stop.
The house disquiets us with quiet.
Cooling artificial breezes of the fans
dissipate and still.
7:23. The grid abandons us.
By 7:57, Timex time,
the cravings hit
for season finales,
fresh brewed after dinner coffee,
frozen margaritas,
checking mail
and deleting special offers
from Toyota and American Express.
Electrons leave no tracks.
8:30 and our withdrawal pains begin
in candle glow
and late May sweat,
unevaporated.
What fresh hell is this?
With chirp and clunk
and green light flashes
in the flickering dim,
the savior surge returns.
9:17. The grid embraces us again.
the lights go dark,
the hum and click
of the refrigerator stop.
The house disquiets us with quiet.
Cooling artificial breezes of the fans
dissipate and still.
7:23. The grid abandons us.
By 7:57, Timex time,
the cravings hit
for season finales,
fresh brewed after dinner coffee,
frozen margaritas,
checking mail
and deleting special offers
from Toyota and American Express.
Electrons leave no tracks.
8:30 and our withdrawal pains begin
in candle glow
and late May sweat,
unevaporated.
What fresh hell is this?
With chirp and clunk
and green light flashes
in the flickering dim,
the savior surge returns.
9:17. The grid embraces us again.
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108 words
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Author's Note
A Tahoe probably took out a transformer the other night and left us in the dark for a couple hours. What a whimpering dependent I've become.
Other stories by Gary Hardaway
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Nice work. *
Doesn't take long to get undone, does it? And then cradled back to civilization. *
An experience, I believe, we can all relate to. Beautifully captured.
Thank you, MaryAnne. Let's face it- I'm in it for the affirmation!
Beate, I realize how enslaved I am by technology- low, medium and high. I guess we'll burn the planet in exchange for blenders and and the WWW.
Thank you, Sally. For your kindness here and for your lovely work.
Especially like your use of the one-line stanza. Effective. Good phrasings in the lines, Gary. I like.
The modern-day nightmare, perfectly realized. I live in the country and such moments can be unnerving.
Drives us crazy when we're without electric, then when it flashes back on, we talk for granted. Reminds me of the week after the No-Name Hurricane hit our area. Peace *
"The house disquiets us with quiet."
Just love this line...I wonder if our dependence is more for the disquiet than the technology.
Thank you, Sam. Especially for enjoying the little hinge points.
Thanks, DJ. The burdens of convenience, urban, suburban and pastoral. We share the pain.
Gessy- so glad you liked my favorite line! Thank you for reading and commenting.
Linda, thank you for the reading and shared experience.
Wonderful!
Thanks, Tawnysha!
I like your writing and your comments: this one in particular I can empathize, having gone through it a number of times myself, even started reading books again and making notes with a pencil. *
Such an interesting poem in the way the short lines are almost ticks of time, and the tension is heightened because of this structure, and I found myself growing very tense and needing what they need. Wonderful work!
*
You DO have to pay me.
Thanks for the generosity, J. Mykell.
Thank you, Susan, for your comment. I'm very happy that the the hinge points worked in your experience of the poem.
Cash or debit card, Joani? I have neither, of course.
And hurricanes always DO hit in hot weather, don't they? I was powerless for a day last August, and this rang so true. I didn't love the last line, but I pretty much loved all the others, and especially the personification of power: "the grid abandons us," "the savior surge."
Thanks, Kathryn. The last line is a bit of weak tea, isn't it?