Three Letters to Myself

Dear Me in the future,

What’s up? How are you?

It’s me from the past, which you probably knew.

I’m writing 'cause soon we’ll be one and the same

And I’m wondering things: does our wife take our name?

That is, will we marry? Will we procreate?

I’m trying to get, here, a sense of my fate.

Do we end up bald? (I guess I mean “when”)

Do we climb up the sea cliffs of Eire again?

And how are my parents? Are they still around?

Do we still jam to techno or is it just sound?

What job are we in? Do we find it fulfilling?

Do we live day-to-day or do we make a killing?

Sorry for this interrogative glut,

I’m dying to know all the who’s ,why’s and what’s!

I don’t know how you’ll send it, Please write back fast.

Ours, very truly,

You (Me) from the past.

Dear Me in the past,

My, how long has it been?

I’d call you “my friend” but we’re closer than kin.

I was tickled to get your inquisitive note

And even more so when I saw what you wrote.

You want to know how our whole life turns out,

But there’d be no fun in removing all doubt!

Plus I don’t want to mess up the space-time continuum

But I do love your letters, by all means continue ‘em.

I’m afraid you must wait and find out on your own.

You’re done growing up but you’re still far from grown.

I’ll give you this, kid, you got plenty of gumption,

So do us a favor: trim your candy consumption.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to our bed.

I’ll see you quite soon!

Love,

Me up ahead.

Hey Me from the future,

It’s earlier me.

I just got your letter: still an asshole, I see.