millennium teens: (the wonders of the internet)
crumpled paper in the bin
replaced by yet more poetry confessions:
the generation that speaks it's hormones through metaphors
and abuses p.un.ct.ua.ti.on
to explain how we really feel
(Noting that wrists and razor blades
make complex alliteration
and bold text adds depth.)
The new millennium teenagers;
whoring through drug addictions
and affairs of the heart.
The nail polish is black,
the weight is under 90 pounds
and you're nobody unless you've had therapy.
grudgingly making way for the virgin kiddies beneath us.
Their lives so full of promise and possibility.
We were like that once.
(Or so I read)
Political, bisexual, wiccan indie-lovers.
We tried to be different,
but we all ended up the same.
So does printing off poems
by some anorexic in another continent
make you feel any better?
Did your kindred correspondance with
help you overcome
So we say
…to serve up the lukewarm remains of everything else.
(These poems all start to look the same)
And what it all translates to is
We'll be the class of '07.
(If we live that long.)