and yes PC is gone(still going) too far. (/if anyone is worried about kids then read Home Game by Michael Lewis/)
"Give Me One Good Reason To Die"
at the millennial rolling-over point
baby boomer one-time-hippies
turned parents across these United States groan,
"when we said
'you can be anything' we meant
'you can be a brain surgeon or
district attorney or
genetic engineer' -- we
didn't mean you should become
a... poet."
But it was Dad who taught me that the call
of my wild heart rings as valid
as any voice of reason
And Mom who showed me that raging terror of where you're headed
is the surest sign you're traveling
in the right direction
This is a generation
beyond definition, unconvinced
the American dream isn't a fiction
of REM sleep; certain
gender matters less than love; determined
the apocalypse won't catch us napping.
Breast-fed on "how many roads must a man walk down,"
we watched our creators sacrifice their sharp edges
to stay within the lines; small wonder we race
to rant about wrongs or
find the edge of the planet
and lean at the lip of the void
We are the change generation,
fitted with the inconsistencies
of a millennium in flux; vagabond lot, we
skitter one city to the next
in seek of a home not in need of so much repair;
see, our inherited tools they fit fit like a Phillips-head
in a slot-top screw; we know that sit-ins
end in tear gas and tanks,
picket lines in promises
and compromises, lobbying
in backrooms and bullshit
I might believe in this Revolution
if one person proved he knew
what he was fighting for
and how
because the KKK still erects a cross in Cincinnati's Fountain Square every Christmas and
teenage girls have to weigh back alleys versus daddy's fists to secure
abortions and
Promise Keepers fill stadiums while poets play coffeehouses and
if I fucked a woman in Alabama, Arizona, Arkansas, Florida, Idaho, Kansas, Louisiana, Massachusetts, Michigan, Minnesota, Mississippi, Missouri, North Carolina, South Carolina, Oklahoma, Texas, Virginia or Utah
I could get anywhere from 30 days to 20 years in jail
I don't own
enough rage for it all -- I am
ninety-five miles per hour on I-81, sprinting
to track the tirade vibrating
on the next stage
is Anybody Listening?
I live
in search of a cause worth dying for
We are a generation of screamers
silenced by the conspiracy of comfort
that cradles us voiceless
in our PC cities, where only the drunk
and the dangerous spill what seethes
in so many
I trade crusades like cards,
flip issues like channels
give me a god
give me a rallying cry
give me one
good reason to die
Friday, October 30, 2009
Change Generation, are we?
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