torpor

I was told
the torpor
wouldn't last long
A century or two or one hundred
which isn't really that long
at all
unless you have to be somewhere
tomorrow

The slowness wasn't the problem
inasmuch as how
it was perceived
by everyone
waiting their turn
behind me

Or the people with clipboards
and handmade badges
who brought
trains full of children
to note my extinction

They proactively measured
their bones
for their cabinets
and lighting;
waiting for the day
they'd be observed too
in a museum
or in the garbage pile
in the dank basement