This is probably enough for one evening. Hell, I don’t even know if I’ll ever revisit it.
Excerpts from “Scowl.”
(With apologies to Allen Ginsberg. No, really: he wasn’t half bad.)
I see the weak minds of your generation destroyed by Barack, snarking hysterical hatred, dragging yourselves through the Twitter feeds at night looking for an angry fix,
fuzzyheaded hipsters yearning for the fleeting blasphemous connection to the fierce delirium of the Audacity of Hope,
you unemployed and jobless and debt-ridden and high sit up chooming in the economical darkness of parent’s basements floating across the seas of photons contemplating pr0n,
you bare your brains to Barack under his gaze to see cannibal handlers slavering at your sweetbread snacks illuminated,
you pass through universities with battered dull eyes hallucinating racism and assigned your blood-guilt by lovers of culture war,
you then driven from the academies with crazy & enslaving obscene spikes of debt stapled to your skull,
you linger in unshaven rooms in underwear, wasting your lifespan with xBoxes and listening to the worldsong through the wall,
you’ve been busted down to pubic terms, expected to vote as if your lady-parts were at stake – and man parts, too…