2001



So that was 2001,
that blur of a year,
that flurry of seasons.

What happened to those
endless Summers?
Those timeless Autumns?

1991 seemed to last forever,
every day full of long
long hours.

Now Days and nights
flicker like a turner
prize winner.


And the year is gone.


Where were the flying cars?
Where the space stations?

Reaching the stars?
Peace among nations?


I'm beginning to suspect
that those Sci Fi writers lied

And all my dreams of wonder
shrivel away and die.

So I pour a glass of booze
watch star trek on TV,

and whisper to myself
beam _me_ up Scotty.