ONE ALARM FIRE at Highland Manor Apartments

after dark April 26th, 2022

Prometheus bound out the heavens

to strike fear in the hearts of men and women
reminding us mortals how like oxen yoked

(together via a wooden beam forced

to undergo strenuous labor)

unlike most elderly residents here

at Highland Manor Apartments

whose arising out of bed exertion
tuckers sexagenarians, septuagenarians,

octogenarians, nonagenarians,

and very small number of centenarians out

nevertheless awakening me

courtesy ear splitting fire alarm

residents in their deep sleep, whom woke

with a start after deafening sound din stoked

immediate fear unbeknownst

how to gauge seriousness of clangor

until details figuratively dribbled out

that one occupant named Jack Barber
(purportedly occupying unit B5)

made well done grilled cheese sandwich

as burnt offering to spirits

linkedin to Lenni Lenape Indian tribes.

Understandable the indigenous peoples

originally occupying Southeastern

Montgomery County, Pennsylvania

rightfully distraught being forcibly evicted

from their land, and blatantly

wiped off face of the Earth courtesy genocide.

Though caught unawares

by surprised renters abed;

most occupants appeared

dazed and confused

and seemed blithe

if they became gratefully dead

unsure how to heed

what did NOT appear

as a practice fire drill,

though yours truly

and the missus fled

toward front - exiting

two sets of double doors;

we learned after the fact

that back doors instead

accessed if an emergency arose,

but I (and the wife) followed

where other older folks

(analogous to zeppelin) led,

the majority bumbling, hobbling,

essentially old fart shuffling,

Yiddish shach? or schock?

Mach? correct me if in error, okay
as I attempt to outspread
before thee, a feeble embellishment

which poetic effort reflects retread

of tired and worn writing techniques.

Understandable, the aversion

living social in a highrise

acrophobia an abominable excursion

untenable to yours truly as incursion

foisted upon peacenik phrased poet

who as a lad suffered malocclusion

necessitating me to undergo
maxillofacial surgery (more'n
mine half life ago) painful operation
maxillary osteotomy, and

quite some years later

all teeth got extracted

attributed to advanced periodontal disease.

If/when part time

gainful employment acquired,

I could identify as indentured servant,

especially if hired

as a taste tester, or poetaster

by strict taskmaster,

who relentlessly teeths me

eventually forcing gumption

to allow, enable and provide
figurative modus operandi

to fight and bite back.