Slurred Future

The forest is gorgeous.

A constant theme

through out the history

of written word.

When walking under

it’s tall boughs,

everything is crisp.

The eye notices

each and every shade of green,

the dimples and crevasses

in the bark,

and how tiny critters scurry into them to escape

the rain.

It is almost as if the forest grants super

human senses.

I am aware of even

the most minute of details.

Then something strange happens.

My gaze goes down

to my feet

and everything blurs.

The asphalt, pine needles,

leaves, and pine cones,

all become an unidentifiable

path of muddled moving color.

Is my brain creating a visual metaphor

for my life?

That I can appreciate

and perceive that

which is happening

in the here and now,

but once I look toward the future,


all words



and wishes

slur together

like the mumblings of a brazen drunk tweeker.

I think thats normal…

if not,


present is a synonym for



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