Man of the future
Flipping sound, yellow sea, count the ages and listen:
I sang and tapped the dust, crushing my lips- A thousand years agone.
We wore jibads of soft enamel, selling soft silk on my wilderness
My wilderness of brown and white sand -Sudan, Sahara- unending vastness
Now i whisper " i have lived each half of a hundred years"
You reply - solemn pity thou. oh , son of the ages
I say again in anger " I die after fifty years and resurrect in another fifty"
You say again- Son of condemnation, who has made thee so filthy.
I am not filthy, I am the future i say to Mr yellow sea,
I have seen the past a hundred times, over and over and still I see
I run my fingers on this planet of cosmic computer and biology- sweet slime
I am the future i say again, because i live forever, fifty years in every time.