A Poet, Neglected

Where are my garlands?
The offerings of orchids?
Water lilies arrayed in bowls?
Effusions of honeysuckle?

Where is the acolyte
to kneel beside me,
clad in sackcloth,
proffering parchment and pen?

Where is the ambrosia
fresh-poured over alpine ice?
Where is the palanquin
to ferry me to and fro?

Where are the monks,
the dangling bronze bells,
the wooden hammers that set
the bells clanging at every enjambment?

Has no one read the manual
on my proper feeding and care?