Planning

Planning

Forty-seven hours from now
I will roll down the windows
on my all-American SUV,
Shake my hair loose from a bun,
and crank up music sung
by an artist no one's heard of.

Eighty-three weeks from now
I will have mastered Schumann's "Carnival,"
pace my fingers as they fly by memory,
Write more, criticize less,
and consider going back for my doctorate
just because I can.

One hundred and thirteen years from now
I will disconnect from this reality,
Learn to travel faster than light,
Understand that thing about one hand clapping,
and start mapping out a to-do list
for the next phase of my existance.

So how could I know
that when you asked me about my plans
You only wanted to know
if I would be working late
and if I could pick up some toothpaste
on my way home?