Born too late to explore the earth,
Born too soon to explore the galaxy
Daily, we venture into Skyscraper National Park
A jungle of neon and buzzing electricity
Trodding well worn paths over discarded gum and cigarettes,
Flattened and black with heavy soles
Most days, we’re not conquerors out for blood
Recklessly careening past horizons into the unknown
Too often, we let our dreams cool
And only seek to explore our little patch of the world
We’re captivated by new gods,
Endless data streams and smooth glass
We conduct potential expeditions with quick fingertips
Plow through miles in milliseconds
Zooming in and out of streets and continents
Hopping around satellite composites for street views of the Taj Mahal
And silently promising ourselves, “One day.”
Even though we’ll no longer be the first
Or even close to the first
Why do we always have to be first