it was either a martini or a glass of scotch
these young kids
with their gadgets
with their digital playthings
with the whole world at their beck and call
they don’t know anything
they don’t know shit
how ghandi took lead for all of india
and kennedy took lead for pussy and the mob
how lennon took lead for his generation
and cobain ate some lead
because he listened to too much neil young
while wrestling with oscar wilde
these young bastards
they don’t know how de sade suffered
in a cold oubliette
writing elegant smut with his own shit
or how sexton fucked a gas tank
young kids
with their gadgets
with the top-40 at their fingertips
and bad television shows on a zip file
they’ll live eternal
eternally dumb
one-thousand photos online
while dust collects on the top of the bastille
and no one on this block remembers
what f. scott fitzgerald was drinking
the night he and zelda took a dip
in that pretty fountain
here in new york city
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3 comments:
I like your poems, John.
I'm going to hedge a bet and say it was the scotch. Straight.
mylum,
thank you. i'm wondering if it
might've been cognac
You have the gift for telling a funny story and making a point, John. Have you ever tried stand-up?
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