(for Steve, Editor of the CCB)

In three hundred years they will
view us not unlike we view those
who lived three hundred years ago.

They’ll stalk up the steep platform
of the present to look down at
our silly clothes and customs.

They’ll shake their heads and wag
their fingers before passing laws
to undo our incivilities.

They’ll walk past our inventions
in disbelief that we were able
to sustain a living at all.

And they’ll come to deem us
morally unfit, a disgrace,
utterly unlike themselves.
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Poet’s Notes:

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