THE MAN FROM THE FUTURE

i was on the light rail one day
didn’t know where i was headed
just one of those days where the sun
wasn’t gonna come into the house
so rather than waiting for the
floodwaters of introversion to rise
i rode my bike over to the train
and hopped on towards denver
away from the television and the bed
and there across from me on the train
was a young boy, maybe 9 years old
in a business suit, reading the paper
he read from it with the focus of a monk
turning the pages in established ritual

excuse me i said to him
he looked at his watch then up at me
“it’s 9:47”
no no no i said
i was just going to ask
aren’t you a little too young to be
on the light rail alone
“too young?” he inquired
with a stern gaze
yes, i said
you must be no older than 10
you’re just a boy
“i am not a boy,” he said,
“i am a man from the future,”

he’d stolen my tongue
i wanted to say
and i’d wanted to say
but i ended up not saying
because he was telling the truth
and in that moment
the glare of the sun
piercing the train windows
i felt as if
i was just a boy from the past

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2014


READ “WELCOME BACK, ASSCLOWN”

Author: brice maiurro

Denver poet. Author of Stupid Flowers, out now through Punch Drunk Press.

4 thoughts on “THE MAN FROM THE FUTURE”

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