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And the question always comes
of time
travel—who would you like to meet,
either living or dead? And I think
I would like to meet someone who is alive,
better conversation that way.
I mean, why go back in time
to meet Einstein if he’s been dead a day,
or Joan of Arc, if she’s been dead for two,
or Jesus, if he’s been dead for three?
As I ride this streetcar looking up
every so often for places to eat, I read
the shapeshifter who killed as a lark
and I think, if I could go back in time
before there were blondes
things would be better, and
I search for time travelers in restaurants
that serve breakfast all day
and in that way I hope to hitch a ride
far from this cruel world of sunlit hair,
of peroxide, and vacant stares
and to let slip the surly blondes of earth.
by David Clink
from: The Surly Blondes of Earth, ©2002
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