A Brief History of the Future
There will be clones with glow-in-the-dark eyes
that live under intersections and only pop-up
when the power goes out.
After a night of heavy drinking, you’ll be able to peel
off your face and send it to the cleaners
to have the wrinkles steamed out.
You’ll be able to adjust the sound of your heartbeat,
just like the ring of a cell phone.
There’ll be virtual amusement parks
where you can drown in the milk of your first lover’s thighs.
When you have a feeling, you’ll be able to push a here button
so you’ll always know how to get back there.
Overbearing parents will sneak into their child’s brain at night
and pluck out the memory tape.
Regular memory will begin to look like an old, beat-up car.
Everyone’s inner landscape will be explored and charted.
Instead of churches, we’ll have giant radios
with huge metallic antennas for steeples.
If you sit on the coils, you can listen to god
with your entire body, as his holy broadcast ricochets
off the aluminum walls of your bloodstream.
We’ll still be human, for the most part.
On some days, you’ll still be able to hear the echo of the wind
organizing leaves in the distance.
Read Jeffrey McDaniel’s The Barbecued Man
Or read more poetry in our current issue