If We Wait Here

They said if we wait here we’ll go to another place where the 90s never stopped and the towers never fell, where Facebook never happened and streaming is something water does. They said if we wait here we can leave this place forever. We can run in muddy fields that aren’t there anymore and play ball in empty courts where McDonalds is now. Computers live in the family room and phones are bricks with long antennas. We can hide in our rooms. We can make things with paper and yarn. A tablet is a flat clay slab you learned about in school. We don’t know where our friends are. We can't text them. Can't Facetime. We have to go looking for them, knock on their doors, ring their landlines. Maybe we'll catch The Sopranos Sunday night. They said if we wait here we can start fresh, can live a new day in houses we can afford with jobs paying wages we can save. We can go to Blockbuster. When we’re feeling fun we can scrounge the dirty basements of sketchy video stores. We can be naïve. We can say something dumb and regret it later. We can do something kind and no one will ever see it. They said if we wait here we’ll be happy again.  We could be at the end of history. Democracy wins. All that's left is the stars. If we wait here. The sun is setting. Buses have come and gone. A single drop of rain beats the pavement. The trees are still. Birds silent. Billboards. Digital ads nonstop. Raindrop. We’re waiting here.