“what youth is for”

You’re leaving

The broad expanse

of your back

is the gallery

where I ‘II hang my dreams.

Always on your way

Out

When will I

go with you?

I’ll behave

like you want

No more words from me,

Or sounds

You explode

I will sit

quiet

I’ II take it

quietly

like you want.

She can’t help it

grapevines say

her mind

her own mind

how awful

There are lovely moments

fleeting…

but lovely

Those, I will keep

others

I put those on the top

to forget

when I’m old

I don’t need the

slamming doors

yelling men

empty homes

that’s what

youth

is for

“Gold”

Romantic blood and majestic past;

Flatter the abused, give them scraps,

Or they’ll ask for respect.

Maintain a system

Of perception.

No, don’t call it oppression.

You are made of gold —

Brilliant!

Let me apologize

For the pickaxe in my father’s hand.

I had nothing to do with that.

My rings are heirlooms.

Satisfy yourself with pictures

And statistics we’ve skewed

For your viewing pleasure. 

Don’t ask questions that go

Deeper than your feed —

We’ve provided all you need. 

“Chorus”


listlessness;

the silences of unkempt plenty.

united at once, we celebrate

punishment suffering many.


stare at the wallpaper,

what is sallow was once sunny.

scream day and night — someday

you may find it funny.


ignorance is deathless;

of that we live among, amply.

gross awakening may separate

ourselves from citric effigy.


Strike down this moral castrator —

remember without sympathy!

stack high his tower with the bodies

of those he promised greatly.


Let the news print the names!

Hear the clapping in the streets!

But remember the chorus

The one percent sings.