Procrastination

Sunrise rolls
across the earth

and every one of us
wakes up to a door
where there was none
when they went to sleep.
Even those who slept rough
find one planted
in the ground before them.
All doors in existence
before this morning
are locked tight.

Wow
comes the collective gust

from anyone not terrified
into silence; then
several hundred million
approach those doors
with a hand stretched out
at knob level.

Some
yet-uncounted number
are set upon
and dragged back
and some are beaten
and some are killed
by those scared
of this morning’s
unsolicited gifts;
then comes

wow,
again,
though
that
doesn’t explain
any of this
well enough
for the epic nature
of the day;

it’s still
a fruitless
wow

when
it’s almost
the next morning
and these doors
aren’t open
yet.