Time Travel Blues (poem)

I have written on and off for the past few years and yet when I review my document, I have barely kept anything from the last 5 months. Lately, I have felt creatively bankrupt. I have started writing blog posts only to give up in disgust or boredom. 

When I review my old poems from the last two years, I can see themes that come in waves, sometimes subconsciously. There was a motif of pirates on the high seas (often ending in disasters or being eaten by sharks), clouds, dreams and stars. But I have also have a theme of wrestling with the past. Of course there are heavy doses of nostalgia but more importantly, themes of the futility of living by the past, in the past, or the folly of living the answers of our past history. Anyway, here's one that I don't hate. 

Time Travel Blues 

You tell me you can travel back in time.

I'm telling you you might get yellow fever and die.

You're fumbling around in a dusty library

that never used the Dewey decimal system.

I’m sorry I can’t join you on your mission to the past.

You're traveling but your die is already cast.

Stop wondering about the history that never came about 

And start thinking about your future scars.