Horseshoe Crabs And Us - 2050

I have visions
Not dreams
But visions
Of the Future
2050___
Sitting on the B54 bus
Traveling down Myrtle Avenue__
Summertime
No cars
No car fumes
None___

The smell of nature
More trees
More flowers
Vegetable gardens too
People children walking
Riding bikes no cars___

8 billion people in 2026
Less people in 2050
A lot less___
The rich escaped to the Moon
To Mars
We hear nothing from them
Nothing
Good riddance___
After 2026
The tipping point
Things went bad
Very bad
And fast
Fascism, wars, droughts, fires, famines, floods
Chaos___
No place to run
No place to hide
Many prayed
Many more screamed
Bad to Worst
Worst for the good
Worst for the bad
Thoughts and prayers
No help___
Then one day___
Worst went to bad
And then not to good
But not bad___
Not everyone survived
Not everything survived,
But the horseshoe crabs
They multiplied by the billions
And they fed the world with their eggs
As horseshoe crabs had done for so many other species
Through so many other extinctions___
Now 2050
Me
98 years old
With my wives
My children
My grandchildren
My great grandchildren
And friends____
A miracle____
But like horseshoe crabs
Our blood don't die easy____
Deconsume, children, deconsume

It's our only chance___

Foto by Doug Wechsler

Horseshoe crabs are only local to the East Coast of America, the Yucatan, and the shores of Indochina. Their existence dates back 440 million years. No evolution. As a New Englander I am familiar with the beaching on the sands of Maine and Cape Ann as well as Long Island and Staten Island.

I was born with the placenta wrapped around my head. To the Irish that is being born with the Caul. One out of 80,000 births. We are meant to have the 'Sight' an ability to see the futures, because of the 'caul'. Like Cassandra I see many. Some are right and others not even close. But this future is very strong. But not for everyone.

I've read at Howl Gallery, KGB, and MoMA.

I now read in the streets. To friends, strangers, the wind. With a strong New England accent. No publicity. Just poetry and not just my own. And I bring poetry books with me for other to read out not.

It's the last magic, besides Magic.

The Future of Now

In the Age of Species Reassignment
We seem to stand alone
Detached from the us
Embraced by the Me.ness of the Constant Now.

We breathe poisoned air
We eat poisoned food
Plastic covers the Earth
The oceans die
The stars disappear from view.

The world population in 2050
500 million I will be 98 Will you be one of us?

How do I know all this?
I know nothing.
But

I was born with the Caul
The placenta wrapped around my head
Giving the gift of vision
I see it all.
And I see
Nothing

7 Billion More or Less

The population of the planet in 1952 was approximately 2.635 billion people. I was born in May that year. I will be 68 in two months.

Several years ago the UN announced that humanity has reached seven billion people faster than predicted by the most Malthusian experts on growth. The death rate of 150,000 people each day can not keep pace with the birth rate. 50 million short every year from the 1952 population means that over 3 billion people have died since my birth.

3,000,000,000 was a rough figure as was my estimate that 700,000,000 people out of 7,000,000,000 are 60 or over.

One-tenth of the world is older than me and 90% is younger.

That latter percentage include my son Fenway and Fluke and my daughters Angie and Noy and Pen and my two grandsons.

Forever young one way or the other.

ps I heard a population expert asked a question by a TV interviewer.

"What will be the population of the world in 2050?"

"Five hundred million," the venerable scientist answered without a pause to think.

"Five hundred billion? The UN predicts 8 billion." The reporter checked his notes.

"They're wrong." The scientist was not impressed by the UN numbers. "One billion worldwide."

"And what will happened to the extra six billion people on the planet now?"

"They will be gone." The scientist laid out his thoughts about how nature will reduce the global population through floods and natural disasters due to environmental change. "And there is nothing we can do about it."

"That is a very dire forecast." The reporter was taken aback at such pessimism.

"No, because those years will be very exciting for the young. The old will not survive. Not them it will be hell, but for the young, it will be a new time of adventure."

In 2050 I will be 98.

I will be living in Thailand on the shores of the new ocean.

My rice factory will turn out the best beer on the planet.

My children will be happy. Their children too. And their children too.

It's all about location for the oldest man left on the planet.

Two guns in my hands.