TOMORROW
if I live to be 94 years old like your mother
do you think that I will expect to be treated
like a revered hotel guest
or will I live alone in a tiny room
with a folding couch bed and a hot plate
everything I own will fit on a couple of shelves
I’ll watch movies on a tiny screen
check for emails ten times a day
to see if anyone has thought of me
living on cans of soup and rye crackers
reading the large print version of Readers Digest
or listening to books on tape or whatever
they might be on at that time
perhaps I’ll gaze out the window all day watching the street for a happening of any sort
as a truck goes by I will wonder where it goes
and what it has inside, who it might be bringing
a package to, for what reason
will I remember today? or only some days
and if so, which ones will they be?
by then will I have lost my fear of dying
or will liein bed at night and wonder
if tomorrow I will wake up again
so I can spend another day like the last
not even caring anymore what it’s all for
or what it means whether or not I was revered
there in my mind’s hotel
nathanguitars 