Junk Mail

The future arrives every day

in the mail

in the shape

of brightly colored advertisements selling

colleges in states whose names I can’t connect

with anything.

On the front there are clean-cut boys and girls

eating apples and playing volleyball,

maybe a rendering of a residence hall,

but nothing new or useful.

So I surrender them to my garbage can,

full of bulletins from years to come,

and put off a decision for another day.

But every night I hope and pray

that the reality will differ

from the facts, figures and pretty pictures.