Looking Ahead

The future is a terrible place.
It's heaven, hell, and purgatory's lavatory.

Wishes are fish stories,
t h i     s


b
i
g

and full of holey space.

Grander larcenies exist
than the imagination's theft 
of the present's gifts,
but the sentence for looking ahead
is a life of death
death
death
death
and pain. 

Anguish is a shattered ice hotel
that you never built or saw
an image melting at the jagged edges
dripping into the stream 
of every wasted hour.