i’m trying to remember what the future looked like
five years ago, four years ago
last year
my recollections are hazy
the way the world looks when i take off my glasses
there’s a dim image niggling in the back of my mind
all spiderwebs and smoke and caffeine tremors
i sat at a desk late at night
staring at a computer
catching the pretentious semicolon
lightening the comma’s load
making words make sense
to the common man
my desk in reality
doesn’t feel like it faces west
as it did in my dreams
although i’ve always been horrible at geography
so it well might
feelings aren’t quite everything
i imagined i’d achieved perfection
or at least the nearest form
a 20-something could reach
not blatantly stated ‘perfect,’ mind you
but implied nonetheless
little clay-and-dust figures always have flaws
it’s inherent in the craftsmanship
where their value lies
and so with me
i’ll never be perfect alive
just like i’ll never see the future clearly
or the past with someone else’s eyes
the past looked at the future and saw the present
which is where i’ll always be
dig.