Castle of Indolence

by F. J. Bergmann

A long-ago lover left me his house,

like the granting of a wish in a fairy tale

from one of the oldest human books.

Most of them had worn data-masks;

his name remained unknown to me.

Perhaps he had been the mute man

whose skin mirrored me, gradually

misted by our steaming breath,

or the one who always blinked,

dazed as a newborn, after orgasm,

before plunging into the depths

of an exhilarant-induced fugue,

insensate despite violence outside.

I remembered only a few details

of sex acts I had performed in a world

now devoid of interior sensations.

My house faithfully excluded all

intruders; it recognized the dangers

of the proletariat, who heaved hunks

of asphalt at the translucent shimmer

of the barrier surrounding the ice-pool

where I skated or the miniature beach

where I lay down under a personal sun.

Downhill beyond the perimeter wall

the embattled masses surged and receded;

seen via tracking satellite, each component

seemed as trivial as punctuation marks

or serifs on the cramped pages of a dull,

downturned book. Their fingers stretched

toward a dirty sky. No one I cared to know.

Back when the world began to change,

those who considered only themselves

indispensable moved to other continents,

then further out; my soirées and salons

no longer overflowing, then too sparse

to be worth holding. And, finally, I myself

no longer received any invitations. The price

of a new embodiment rose beyond my reach.

*

Across the mutant-chamomile lawn,

light from robotic watchers making rounds

still streams calmly through the windows

as I sit at a music-stand or leave a bed

undone or listen from behind a trembling

curtain. All human staff has long since fled.

A rhythmical background roar penetrates

artificial quiet as the remaining walls

pulse with gasps of failing energy.

If I were to drop my defenses, hide, then

be a party to destruction, could I remain

unrecognized? At the wall, an energy tool

stolen from the destroyed spaceport

generates a dazzling fountain of sparks

that rise like ascending stardrives.