what about
these next
hundred years
what about science
how about fiction
what ever
will come true
maybe we are
science theory
fiction vexed
crying crocodile tears
what mocking
trying ambience
will there be
will diction exist
in a hundred years
will humans have 
a relevant view
or just grunts
surely predicting 
those zombie growls
some languid tongue
licking wooden bowls
that held mongrel
boiled rodent stew
what about salt
or sugar sweet
will there be
anything new
who will be
held at fault
for some rocky
stoned psychedelic future
where psychotic life is
rezoned and incomplete
will myopic rain fall
or optic sun even shine
what about synoptic water
will it be potable
or notably acidic brine
in an elliptic hundred years
earth may stop spinning
our cryptic souls may be
shifting in purgatory
those nifty moves
we grinningly thought
were awesomely winning
may be obstinately full
of loathsome pain
sulphursome with strife
nothing really new though
something still resembling
this modern toxic life
something that our zombie brains
will see as science fiction
not understanding fire
never sustaining love
ingrained entirely
mattersome with hate
might not be a cause
for war or even friction
we might find ourselves
in some empty place
where food for thought
has completely abandoned 
this flagrant human race
in another hundred years
we may be eating dinner
sharing a grunting table
in a world of growling demons
whether it be science fiction
or some other crazy fable
so this is my prediction
at this amazing speed
we're crazily going
we'll still be
predilection short
of true compassion
somehow void of even
an odd bit of real grace

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