Anything to shift the future.
Let go looking in the rearview mirror, let the past fade to black.
The future is not so different from the past if your glass is full. Oh not the proverbial glass half empty glass half full kind of picture. No. Rather the glass full of brown liquid. The thick syrupy sweet kind that burns so good, that tastes like the sheet coming off the clothes line after baking in the sun all day and mom takes it and whips it across the bed and it floats like a parachute so slowly that you dive under it as it settles and caresses and is warm and cool at the same time.
The future is just the same if your pocket has a pack of cigarette papers or a pipe that sits next to a plastic baggie of stems and leaves and residue with a few matches nearby.
The future is the same as the past if the packet of white powder still has your name on it in invisible ink with a magnetized strip and it moves in your direction unbeckoned seemingly.
And it’s the same when no e…