I don’t think I belong to this time
I find it crude, rude, self-absorbed.
I’m bewildered, baffled, buffeted
by the human race, by the book of face.
I think I just might have to leave,
pack my bags, head off to 2223
for surely by then men will have learned
to live together in respect to each other
and to the land. At least that’s my plan.
I’ll try to get word back to you if
anything has survived when I land.