2024, but, who’s counting?

An old woman walked past me…grey hair,

stoic expression, holding up a bunch of flowers

at shoulder height. The mauve flowers matched

her flower print dress. She looked like she was

walking to her grave, an apparition. She’s my 

image for the next year of world civilization.

The USA is the hot spot for the world’s changes.

“The temperature’s rising, it isn’t surprising,

it certainly can….can-can.”

If it was an asteroid, it would have hit you.

The next year…the next year…what other time

in history we’re we as aware that big changes

are imminent? 1914? 1941? 

The prophets on YouTube are pulling out their hair.

It’s no joke, but black humor is a thing.

We see which way this situation that has

reached its boiling point is going.

Some frogs will not survive.

“Hurry up, please, it’s time.”

My last twenty years went by in a

second, but then I live in Shangri-La,

where the only time is now.

This year is and will feel like the Truman

Show, glimpses of bare wires dangling 

from the sky.

Time itself will slow, like when you’re in

an accident, to be sure it doesn’t miss anything…

flashes of invisible realms. 

Who will survive to continue to evolve once

the truth is fully revealed?

We live in interesting times.