Tomorrow

1-26-1990

Yesterday I rose up over the city in a glass elevator
and realized that it was actually Tomorrow.
The Tomorrow with a capital T,
that I had read about
in a hundred different paperback books.
(They were great stories.)

And from the top of a concrete parking garage
I watched the glossy oblong cars slide by below --
with digital dashboards and anti-lock brakes
and telephones, in some of them --
and I looked at the stacks of offices and classrooms
piled up high and thought about the cream-colored
computers and microwave ovens and calculators and fax machines
And my credit card even has a hologram on it
(a real hologram!)

And the whole world seemed like it would burst at the seams
with all the novelty and clamor
of a toy store,
and I sucked in my breath with anticipation
Because the Future was NOW,
And I got to be here.

But the wind began blowing
and the sun was setting firmly in the west,
taking the bright blue sky with it.

I know nothing lasts forever.
Please, God,
please let us play a little longer.

 


Copyright 1990 Derek T. Jones