a look into the future

I finally got to see a doctor
I had been waiting for almost two months
when I got there
the amount of paperwork
I had to fill out
was truly disgusting.
there was so much of it
I would flip a page
and it seemed that
the other pages would multiply
the stack would to get bigger
each time I killed the page before it
I thought I’d scream.
people kept coming in the waiting room
they would sign in
seconds later,
they would be called in
and my paperwork kept
procreating.

I was finally taken into an exam room
there was a chart showing all the muscles
in your body
that you could sprain.
what’s the fucking point, I thought.
we are so fragile.
we, as humans, are a sad joke.
we shouldn’t have been able to survive.
when I talk to an evolutionist,
I wonder how they can think
that we are the fittest.
how could we have evolved into this?
we should all be dead at birth.
how the hell have we’ve been able
to SURVIVE?

the man said he liked my beard.
that grounded me into reality.
he said that he couldn’t grow one like mine yet.
he’s only 19.
“you’re not my fucking doctor are you?” I asked.
“no, no, no.”
“okay, then.”

he asked if I smoked.
I said I did.
he asked if I drank coffee
I said I did.
“why do you do that to your heart, bro?” he asked.
how the fuck should I know? I thought.
I shrugged.
he said, “it’s cool man. I know how you be.”
what the fuck is going on? I thought.
he asked if I was straight.
I told him I was.
he told me to smoke pot.
I told him I would
he talked about burning his throat.
I couldn’t listen to him.
I didn’t know what was happening.
WHERE IS THE FUCKING DOCTOR?

the doctor came in.
good bedside manner.
talked calmly.
he wanted tests.
he wanted x-rays.
he wanted it all!

I went to the lab.
it was in a small indoor mall.
I was the only person walking through it.
it felt like the world had ended.
I was the Omega Man.
I didn’t know how that could’ve happened.
I should’ve been dead long ago.

I walked into the lab
and the first thing I saw in the waiting room
was me.
ME!
but not now,
in the future.
how long?
I couldn’t tell you.
I was sitting there.
I was wearing the same shorts I had on now.
I was wearing the same black tank top
that I had on now.
my beard was the same length but
was now snowy white
my tattoos were a little faded
I was leaning forward onto the handle
of an oxygen tank
with tubes up my nose.

the cigarettes had finally got me!
the bastards!
how dare them
after all the money I put into them
how could they treat me that way?

I left.

I couldn’t do the labs.
my doctor would just have to look at me
and guess
I found out that I get a little fatter
and have trouble breathing
in the future.
I will tell my doctor that
and see what he can do
to stop the inevitable.

be sure to pick up my book THE END OF EVERYTHING available now at Indiegogo!

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2 Comments

  1. One interesting note: your young self is smarter than your old self. No sense in both of you waiting; I’m glad you’re outta there.

    Having taught yourself that as a young man, your old man isn’t there in the waiting room either. He learned that lesson decades before. He’s at home tipping back a beer with his white-bearded self, and probably still reading Bukowski.

    This is the way the world heals.

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