Retrograde Quarterly is a themed print magazine which features work collected from a wide range of mediums and can truly be described as ” beautifully chaotic. “
The theme of FUTURE inspired me to wrtie two poems and some short prose on the futuer we are heading toward at the moment. They aim to be hopefull but not unrealistic.
The short prose featured in this issue, Compromise, delves into my fears for what we are sacrificing on a daily basis with the small choices we make and the compromises we settle for.
It’s little and it’s lost, our future buried like a seed slow in sweet earth next to hopeful brothers and sisters in sprinkled rows. It will stretch now, our future with shallow roots down through rot searching out leaching old truths for building new. It’s found sunlight, our future peeks green growth from a low grave and standing taller to bask or burn in heavy rays. It will change now our future with every set-back unfurling leaves pruning the rest to take a leap and slowly we become new seeds.
Connect the dots circuit twice I am with all without filter click easily and lets connect all thoughts or words we scroll on future bound and sitting down.
I hope, in 20 something years, my kids will see American Beauty and they will ask me about the plastic bag.
“Did you really use them?” the way we ask about cigarette ads and people not using sun-cream. Did youreally think that was a good idea?
12 seconds use for 100 years, waiting around for it to break down. They’ll point out that every one I used, every one my parents used, and their parents still, are here. Waiting around in some trash-pile limbo. A limp body to preserve some fast rotting fruit.
And I’ll tell them it’s true. That I did, we all did. That we packed things that would perish in plastic that will never die.
They’ll look at take away coffee cups and water bottles, in reruns of shows I watched growing up and
they’ll ask again.
“Did you not know?” Does the night follow day, does the tide change? “Did you no see where they
To the piles and piles on someone else’s doorstep. Wade though bottles and cups, though water you cant drink, bottled for someone else. Shipped off and sent back, in a plastic husk, to thank you.
They will ask how I could take and not give and not notice.
And I’ll say “It saved time.” We were all in such a rush, so we mad little compromises.
Until one day, we too were compromised.
Retrograde 1.4 // FUTURE //Fall.Winter 2018