From the Pointed Circle: “A Thousand Years from Now,” Poetry by Jake Edgar
A thousand years from now, due to a series of massive continental floods, there will be no good reason to write letters. I will be suffering greatly, and I will have a waterproof box to keep my letter writing supplies. My mother will live in a bungalow deep beneath the former African continent, and we won’t visit her enough. The water will be less salty but you still won’t like going in without a t-shirt on, and I still won’t be able to swim. Our new daily routine, much like our old daily routine, will be you telling me that you aren’t ready yet, and then me going on without you and almost drowning, until you hear the violent splashing and come to save me.