F**k You If You Can't Hear Me

My generation will not falter.

We'll live this life as we must

drifting away and desperate for more time

trying to translate our ever after,

a weeping, sensational dream

dripping with sweet, sweet ignorance.

Plastered against the (radon tube) walls of our existence

is our bliss,

scant, with legs spread wide, waiting,

covered in sap and sorrow,

for another incredulous orgy.

We are refugees, sagging, sagging, sagging.

We are crying rebels

with oily tears that fuel Dick Cheney's mechanic pulse.

We are sadists.

We are apathy twisted by cheap booze.

We are artists who cremate the past.

We roll a spliff with the ash and forget about the future.

We are life darkened by amethyst prophecy.

We die, only to be resurrected by the crystal sacrament

of soapbox politicians

who use us in death like clothes-turned-kitchen-rags.

We have become stiff with collagen heartlessness and dead erection.

We must pray, pray, pray for ourselves,

us exiles,

Us Chicago vagabonds!

Us Empire State vagabonds!

Us Redwoods and Frisco vagabonds!

Us Indy, Cincy, Boston, Seattle, Birmingham, Atlanta, City of Angels, 

City of Mystics, Music City, City of Cowboys, Dust Bowl Vagabonds!

My Midwest!

My Appalachia!

My River City Vagabonds!

Let's pray. F**k that. Let's figure it out.

Watch.

Watch us.

Watch us survive.

Reviews

[Rene Velez]

the world is in a fucked up state...and still people strive and live, till the s**t rolls over there home and front door like a mud slide, then the real battle begins, thought provoking my brother nice write...