My Generation (Version 2004)

Dear friendly X-box

plug me in

I want to feel your groove

against my sway

life is nothing but battles

and sex appeal

some of us fit right in

but the rest of us

fall right out.

I'm over here


by these words

these poems

these ways of expression.

Go ahead

I wont blame you

engrave your lies on my grave

because I've seen it all before

I've done it all before.

Little girl

curled hair

translucent stare

looked like the devil to her father's eyes.

Little girl

curled hair

translucent stare

looked like garbage in her lover's lies.

I like to look out the window

and pretend that the little kids going to school

don't realize that my generation

will be know for who they have killed

rather then who they have saved.

Crosses bared-

how do I get over it

when it stings at me

like fangs in my skin.

Vampires are the coolest way to go

I see that girl

in her black skirt

pretending that she's one of them.

Blood tastes delicious

until you see the dead body that it came from.

I've laid down with my heart

X'ed out

with your name

carved out in magic marker.

Legs opened

heart ripped out

for you

and this.

Novembers heavy this year

with the knowledge that nothing's ever going to change

no matter which man

takes the throne

of this hypocrisy.

The Earth is shaking in front of me

democracy on one end

and Mt. Saint Helen's on the other.

I see both exploding from my window today.

I hear the heavy ripe

of future

and coolness

beside my stiletto heels

and retro vintage jeans.

Beauty is a fickle thing.

What am I-

fucked up

drugged up

locked up

hooked up

knocked up.

And oh,

don't let me forget

to sow my lips shut

and bow down

to love again.

What is it

that lingers in the air

underneath this preaching speech

made to frighten people

into folding their hands.

Old man

who I came from

goes to church every Sunday

to save him from the alcohol in his veins

and the fists in my face.




welcome to your free ticket to heaven.

If my paradise is to be with him

I'd rather rot in hell.

Toxic prerogative

spoken by lovely sex bombs

that little girls adore.


I've kissed the lips of a boy

dieing in Iraq

at the hand

of a man

who has never even seen his face.

I've looked into the eyes

of a boy

with a gun in his hand.



get paid


go home and pretend that life is what it never will be.


is angels

no longer dead

and back in my arms.


is holding your head up high


without seeing a plane collide into a building.


am my own person


just the same as you.