I had dinner with my future last night.
“You’ve lost weight,” I said.
“You used to be as wide as a freeway
With exits leading everywhere.
Now you’re so thin,
If you wore black, stood sideways,
And stuck your tongue out,
People would think you were a zipper.”
“If I’m thin,” my future said,
“It’s because you’re not feeding me enough.”
Then he hailed a cab,
Drove off to a midnight rendezvous
With my dreams, and left me
To share a cup of coffee with my past.
Copyright 2011 Matthew J Wells
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Fat Tuesday
Labels:
poetry
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