It’s my unrelenting plan
to escape to the future
at any time now, to a time
where the ones greeting me
want only to offer the knowledge
and dynamics of their era.
We’re all quite familiar with that little bit of
science fiction by now–the storied
advanced civilization that doesn’t so much mind
a past-person stumbling upon their developments.
Ya see, these folks would require
astute pupils for their lessons
in temporal psychology, so
if an intuitive person
were to find themselves ensconced
in such an environment,
these lovely future guardians
would instinctively root out
the nature of said snoop’s intentions–
not to mention their accent
or parlance of the time
they oh so unwittingly represent.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Drawing composed August, 2019–
rollerball pen and dry erase marker on printer paper
Suppose for a minute
that you write the odds
for this universe,
should such a position exist.
Would you change things
based on your previous experiences?
Would you consider
the entire scope and slope of existence,
careful not to upset any balances?
Whatever you do, rest assured
that something will go wrong.
That’s just how it goes, baby.