Endless scrolling through meaningless anecdotes, in this so called toxic age
Isn’t that what you always did; flicking through the pages?
Disquieted by the stench of our generation I doubt anyone feels as I do
That the ignorance radiating from your skull only feeds my
Expanding sense of entitlement.
The creations of our generation litter the streets in turrets as high as the glass ceiling
We all so desperately want to smash through
Fertility and credibility and responsibility climbing my
Spine using claws shaped like knives.
The cliches ricochet over gutters filled with
Glutters that distort and abort a clinical age.
Power lines and telephone wires pile over the dead bodies
Of birds and rats stinking and cluttering up the atmosphere
That hangs over the drive-through down the road emanating
A mixture of carbon dioxide and bubbling burning fat…
Maybe we’re lucky to be received on the other side of the screen but what’s
The point of artificial contact if not be touched by flesh that has hurt
And cried and writhed under a terribly hot sun?
A toxic age frowned upon by a barrage of superiority complexes who smirk
That of course we didn’t have that so of course we are wonderfully pure.
What is the point of being pure if the holy water leaves you
Ignorant and poor.