When I lived in NYC, my friend Hilary and I used to write together sometimes. Once we modeled a little exercise after a Laurie Anderson song, and every stanza began with the phrase, "In the future…."
Although the poems are long gone, I remember one line of each of them. Hilary wrote, "In the future philosophers will wear glass hats." I wrote, "In the future the most beautiful flower will be fire."
When I was younger, I thought about the future a whole lot more than I do now. What does that mean? Has the future finally arrived?
No…the present has.
Comments are closed.