Serving Tomorrows Hardly Anyone Deserves Poem by gershon hepner

SERVING TOMORROWS HARDLY ANYONE DESERVES

Like an unfriendly waiter, future serves
all people, from a menu they've just scanned,
tomorrows hardly anyone deserves.
It's clear he doesn't help them understand
ingredients he is using to present
the future they have ordered like a dip,
providing flavor but no nourishment.
Small wonder they don't want to leave a tip!

Time doesn't ask for tips, it is the giver
of tips that people usually don't take,
and as it flows like an unchannelled river
we swan along the present, shallow lake
that leads us, we are hoping, to a venue
where we might manage to achieve contentment,
but since it's only rarely on the menu,
we stand and wait around with great resentment.


In the NYR,8/18/11, there is a wonderful poem by Charles Simic:

One saw signs of it in certain families.
The future was like an unfriendly waiter
Standing ready to take their dinner order
From a menu they could not read.

To look without understanding was their lot
While a salesman in the TV store
Kept changing channels too quickly
For them to retain a single image.

The little flags freshly posted in a cemetery
Said nothing as they hung listlessly
In the early summer breeze,
Not that anybody in particular noticed.

The sunset over the approaching city
Was like a banquet in a madhouse
The inmate were happily setting on fire
Just as our train ducked into a tunnel.



4/5/12 #7660