The Past has no Future

“Consistent as she goes,” directed the captain,
and the secondary helmsman knew that
“Consistent or she doesn’t go.”


Being subtle is an elective
open only to undergraduate revolutionists.


Over in the park, just about dark,
a reflective speaker declared to the crowd,
“You guys don’t know it, but we’re ALL expatriates,”
and a short unemployed fellow over to the left said,
“Not me, I came in on a bus.”


The history of one City general was to use,
as often as possible, the word “debacle.”
(And of course, shoot strangers.)


The past has no future. 
(Or, if you would like to try on
the poly blend version of the jacket:
the past has no future.)