huh, what time is it?
phone slips back into pocket
huh, what time is it?

a bear with regret
making its bold confessions
from behind a meme

life in the future:
computer in my glasses
yet still no jetpacks

ancestors hunted
only ate what they could ****
now we have WalMart

flowers were once wild
bananas used to have seeds
- how we shape the world

Everything tastes like whiskey,
that Tennessee sour mash,
80 proof,
barrel-aged,
leather seats,
and cherried cigarettes underneath
the wet August sky.

You're playing something Brand New,
or something about promises,
and jetpacks,
but all I can hear
is the creak of those
old wooden rocking chairs
where you kissed my forehead
and allowed me to be ****** up.

It was the first time I'd had the courage to cry
and drink wine
straight from the bottle,
no glass,
and it hurt
more than trying to put out a match
with wet fingers,
and missing.

And it's nights like those
that make me think
how your shoelaces
can't stay tied
when we're dancing,
and how the switch to
your ******* bathroom light
sits behind the door,
and ****** me off
at 2:30 in the morning
when I'm more liquor
than woman.

But you still wake up
next to me
in the morning,
and you still want to
touch my cheeks
and kiss my *******
like you're going to lose me
even though my intials
are etched on the tree
outside your bedroom
window
and my shoes
are by the door.

This is the world in 2215
People have changed
The world doesn't smell the same
Cardboard kingdoms and pillow forts have been conquered
Plastic comfort now reigns
Synthetic in my veins
Pixels have replaced daydreams and non-fiction isn't a genre anymore
Its all pretend now
Bee's can't find their way home
And children forgot how to laugh
Although they still get the giggles when they are in church
Knees bent 90 degrees against polished wood
The wind never kisses anyones cheeks anymore
Now your lucky to get a "Heywhudup."
The future is now and its cold
All of my loved ones cry in corners
When they think they are alone
And to top it all off
Still no jetpacks

Jetpacks on, flap those wings with ease,
And aim beyond the outermost layer.
Zeppelins will do, or a blimp if you please –
You and I shall come across the moon chaser.

Any sound of silence can lead us straight to her.
I know it, for she's always been a familiar song,
Rewritten over and over,
As the diurnal storms prolong.

Moonlight shines the brightest on this day,
As its chaser was born a decade and eight ago.
Right now she paves her own way,
In hopes of surpassing the lunar halo.

She came from where the wildflowers grow,
Often surrounded by the people she needed.
Like an ocean, she was never shallow,
On land, her feet are always grounded.
May she become who she wants to be,
Once she reaches the moon's gravity.
Nevertheless, let us see her fly!