To you it’s only now that matters,
Care for future—total lack;
Cunning calm has lulled your sense—
Has someone brought Cassandra back?

Today, you say, a normal Tuesday,
Friday’s all of three days hence.
Wednesday there’s the dentist, then
A film that night, a classic Hitchcock,
Peerless master of suspense—

On Thursday, lunch with friends, and chatting
Pleasantly, till almost two,
Perhaps you’ll swing on by the lib’ry,
Several books long overdue—

Then on Friday, write some letters …
No, that’s out, as you will learn—
For Friday’s when the highways crumble,
Rivers boil, and cities burn.

© 1987, 2004 by John Remmers.