Unwatching You

The Princeton class of 1984
Flocked to campus, August 1980,
With a bit more than the usual sense

In such a group of their own importance.
They chuckled at their grim significance,
Wore black and orange buttons proclaiming

"1984 IS HERE," and in truth,
Spooked themselves, here and there, now and again,
Convening in the auditorium

Or gathering around legal beer kegs,
Given the drinking age back then, smoking
Clove cigs and discussing Ronald Reagan.

They had been given a number by which
The world would be totalitarian,
And the human lust for apocalypse

As a challenge had overtaken them.
Then, date after date, they overtook it.
1984 itself came and went.

So did a few of the freshmen. Then more.
1999 became the focus, came and went.
Around the world, so did quite a few more.

A calendar can't stop itself. It quits
Only when everyone stops using it.
And then it has no meaning. Never did.