Man in the Future PastA Poem by David Lewis PagetLong after a heated argument With his wife in the afternoon, Roger James had taken his angst To nurse in the small, spare room. She said he’d always lived in the past But little he knew of today, And what he knew had no further use For the past had drifted away.
He said that the base of knowledge was The things they learned from the past, That all they knew in the modern day Was built from the past, at last. ‘There’s not a single decision we make That hasn’t been made before, And a study of consequence, you’ll find May stop us from going to war.’
‘You crazy man,’ was his wife’s response, ‘Your life is a pitiful lie, What do you know of the price of milk Or the cost of a shirt, tie-dye? Does it matter that stamps were tuppence once Or that petrol was three and six, And what can enhance our lives today From the knowledge you have of the Blitz?’
‘You trivialise the argument, Your feet are stuck to the floor, You’re lost to the thrill that knowledge brings, You’ll never be able to soar!’ So he took his gloom to the attic room And he lay on an old camp bed, His mind was filled with a sense of doom As images raced through his head.
He knew he’d never been practical, He kept everything inside, She’d thought he was a wonderful catch When first he’d made her his bride. But the gloss had gone as the world went on He was gradually left behind, Sat in a nook with a cosy book While she burnt the chicken, and cried.
He lay and sent up a silent plea To the stars and the universe, ‘If this is life in the present day, Could the future be much worse?’ A crack appeared in the further wall And a bell had tolled outside, And when he walked back down to the hall There was no sign of his bride.
Her things still lay where they’d lain before But of her, there wasn’t a trace, The house was still, in the world outside No sign of the human race. He walked awhile on the empty streets Where the cars were parked, and still, But nothing moved, not even a dog As he walked up, over the hill.
The buildings seemed to be all intact With a single change, he swore, The date had changed on the city bank, One after the day before, Just a single day in the future, he Was leading the human race, They hadn’t arrived where he was at, It was merely one day of grace.
He spends his time in the library And walking the empty streets, He knows they’ll never catch up with him ‘Til his wandering day’s complete. But now he misses his wife and kin And everything of that ilk, So spends an hour of his future day On the prices of gas and milk!
David Lewis Paget © 2014 David Lewis PagetFeatured Review
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