I'm hoping it won't come to that, of course. I like to use my electric oven, not to mention my television and my computer. But should worse come to worst, and the town be buried in snow, I can hold out here for at least a week. Not that this would be any rare accomplishment, as I hold out for a week just about every week. But the plenitude of brews will help me imagine myself heroic in doing so. It always does.
Sunday Verse
SF
by David Lehman
SF stood for Sigmund Freud, or serious folly,
for science fiction in San Francisco, or fear
in the south of France. The system failed.
The siblings fought. So far, such fury,
as if a funeral sequence of sharps and flats
set free a flamboyant signature, sinful, fanatic,
the fire sermon of a secular fundamentalist,
a singular fellow's Symphonie Fantastique.
Students forget the state's favorite son's face.
Sorry, friends, for the screws of fate.
Stage fright seduces the faithful for subway fare
as slobs fake sobs, suckers flee, salesmen fade.
Sad the fops. Sudden the flip side of fame.
So find the segue. Finish the speculative frame.