Future is a Scarecrow

What comes after the thing

is already part of the present

After that thing: the interview/exam/wedding/

birth/death/divorce/dream,

the dust will settle. Your cells

will rearrange in seven days.

You will adapt in ten days.

Some god sits monitoring

our fictive lives in his holy book.

I like to count my hairs,

measure my nails,

poke my nose into my future.

I like to taste the messy plate clean,

keep it ready for the future.

And the future is a scarecrow—

so when you feast on the present

notice how you will sit still

how you will send memes to your friends

how you will bake cinnamon rolls,

you will still fly, you will still read

this is for certain:

the present is already half the future.