When we arrive, the future will adore us
As being so much better than it expected.
We went to school with thugs and contagion.
We went to school with tidal waves and felons.
And we turned out OK. Were at the future!
Greeting each one of us with a wet kiss,
And up until this moment, were But wait a minute.
That smell of roses and that taste of wine,
They may be just the opposite when we get there.
Even though were better than expected,
Simply because weve made it, lets be careful.
Lets be careful hurtling toward the future,
Arms thrown open to embrace its billboard smile.
It may be just a very cramped apartment
With only Jean-Luc Godard for atmosphere,
A weeping parent, a disappointed child,
Pink nipples of the past turned gray.
And that fleet mechanism underfoot
Speeding us into transcendental space
May not allow us to stop anywhere.
This article originally appeared in The New Criterion, Volume 26 Number 2, on page 28
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