Tag: The Future

  • Six Micros from The Future: Matt Leibel

    Six Micros from The Future: Matt Leibel

    Out of Office Jeff wrote an out-of-office email: “Off to the future, back Wednesday the 21st.” Of course, in the future, he didn’t have this job—no one had jobs. Everything was automated and people just sat around thinking, dreaming, playing videogames. He liked this, so he never returned, never invented the systems that made this…

  • The Future: “In Another Lifetime,” from a crown of sonnets by Tomas Nieto

    The Future: “In Another Lifetime,” from a crown of sonnets by Tomas Nieto

    In a basement in what was known as Seattle, a watchmakersolders a metal wing onto a robot bird, springing it to lifewith the weight of gear as engine—motion as ignition. Thisis the closest thing to impulse without nerve, thrill, or grief.In another lifetime, fortune tellers read love linesthrough circuits and wires, speaking wonders from matrix,destiny…

  • From “devours itself”: a mixed media collaboration for The Future by Alexandra Mattraw & Adam Thorman

    From “devours itself”: a mixed media collaboration for The Future by Alexandra Mattraw & Adam Thorman

    *Ed.’s Note: click on image to view larger size. The Image Devours Itself 1 Adam Thorman If only my mouth it is that I will turn, seaward. Glow the apple in your phone we stand cliffside. Click pictures : Blue lace borders what isn’t. Cyclone, chain, center beach caving. Unseen I in the dream you…

  • Two Poems from The Future: Jessica Morey-Collins

    Two Poems from The Future: Jessica Morey-Collins

    The Day We Learned Most of us immediately pulled off our shoes and popped our shirt-buttons, released the thunder of our hearts to quarrel with the administration. The teenagers who found it had been up to teenage no-good—pushing each other in a stolen shopping cart, gulping begged beer and whooping through the sidewalked night. They…

  • Three Poems from The Future: Caely McHale

    Three Poems from The Future: Caely McHale

    Mona Lisa My hands are the last human thing about me.I keep my fingernails pink.I arrange them soft like the Mona Lisa. I imagine delivering a baby, scaled and cold.Scoop the mucus from his throat!My hands are the last human thing about me. My brother’s hands have gone to shit,Dark and spotted from a magnified…

  • Two Poems from The Future: Oak Morse

    Two Poems from The Future: Oak Morse

    DaBaby, the 49th President Lime Lamborghinis for college grads Diamond grillz for senior citizens                  Extra! Extra! Read all about it A Nigga in da House, No Cap Strippers hanging from the chandelier Pool with ocean water from Bahamas Slogan: Make jokes. No stress. Love. Live Life. Breaking…

  • The Future: “Wellness in the Workplace: A Professional Development Series,” fiction by Dolan Morgan

    The Future: “Wellness in the Workplace: A Professional Development Series,” fiction by Dolan Morgan

    Series Overview How can the organization best build capacity and develop tools to avoid burnout and respond with confidence to a variety of contemporary professional circumstances, especially repeated on-the-job stabbings? This four-part series of weekly 90-minute professional development sessions will answer this question and more. Together, we will introduce numerous instructive scenarios, explore and rehearse…

  • Two Poems from The Future: Lauren Camp

    Two Poems from The Future: Lauren Camp

    Into Sleep I Sang the Destruction Sleep crowned my childhoodwith dreams ravenous to show me the magnifiedunderside of logic. When I changed into bed, the mindrode on and unfolded. I deranged many actionsfrom my simple-nickeled life.Everything I knew swoopedthose dark mental corridors. And so I wentalong for the tangle, the hingedcommandments and stretching murmur.I hunted…

  • J Pascutazz: Three Poems from The Future

    J Pascutazz: Three Poems from The Future

    Is There Life for Us Outside the Dome City? The dome sky blackened like her mood ringleaving precious few hours for the sundialto shadow a number. Time to blow the conchand gather together the herdThey’ll stand like statues in a sanctuaryuntil they’re all mossy and patinated She was glad to take off her forest-green patinaAnd…