Where is the future

My mouth tastes like anger.
I imagine anger tastes like spoilt milk or a nasty after taste of a thing you hate
I must have drank from the same cup thats been going round since last year.
I gather no one has bothered to wash it out and pour some new water.
We are all angry.

He brought his boda boda to a screeching halt right in front of her car
She stared at him through listless eyes, almost as though she knew that he was about to insult her
He stared back and then let out a long loud jeer
"Your time shall come, we are tired of you lot! You westerners!"
She tapped at the wheel and waited quietly oblivious to the hooting and shouts from the other drivers
"Get out of the road madam!"
"And go where," she whispered

"Draw back a little sir, you will damage her car if she tries to move."
"No, i am far enough. Stupid things do not even know how to drive! How do they run this country!"
"But you're the one in the wrong! Give her way so we can all go."
"Are you one of them? You must be. One day...just you wait!"
He pushed his motorcycle back a few inches
She drove forward

"Why do you leave your windows down? What if they throw something at you?"
"It is hot, and i cannot run away from the angry rhetoric of every disillusioned man"
"But what if they harm you?"
"Then so be it. I cannot help who i am. If they hate us because of how we look, what can we do?"
"Protect yourself, tint your windows, drive windows up"
"No. That would mean i am ashamed of who i am. It would mean i have something to hide."

My mouth tastes like anger
It is that bitter taste that has refused to go away.
The one you try to wash away with water, soda, anything
But the bitterness grows

There is a cup and they have refused to wash it. Throw it away even
It keeps going round and everyone is drinking from it
No one cares that it is rusty and the liquid on the inside does not look as it should
We're thirsty and we drink what we get
We get high on it and act on it
It doesn't matter the consequences of our actions

The children?
Who cares about the children
Tomorrow will fend for itself
They will build the life they want when they are old enough to
But how can they when you start them off with nothing
Well, we started with nothing too
Its the children i fear for.
My eyes search for the cup. I must find it. At the very least, break it.