Old Teeth

Saturday,
September 10, 2011

2:17 AM

It was only a matter
of time before 8 twenty some things, young folks, as they’re called, seated
around a fire, drunk and stoned out of their minds, and on the eve of the ten
year anniversary of 9/11, only a matter of time until they start talking about where
they were that day, what happened to them, how it crippled their child hoods,
the way it reminds them of their parents divorce, the realization that adults
were and still are scumbags, none of them had so much as threw a punch before,
estrogen in the water maybe, mind control, government conspiracy, life is just
a bunch of assholes taking turns fucking each other, so they got high and
boiled salt potatoes.

Un-employed with a
glass pipe, cashing out the Department of Labor ATM cards, paying Bank of
America $4, from the fee on an un-unemployment debit account, where weekly
money makes it way, 1,200 a month between 3 people in food assistance, waiting
for a pending court case, grilling shish-kabobs, chicken, baby corn, water
chestnut, credible non-specific evidence that we barely exist for real, so
meaningless reports that another attack is planned, D.C., NYC, and no one
admits it but some of these intoxicated humans secretly wish that something
interesting would explode, maybe a church.

Because some humans
became cast as jaded nihilists when they were 13.  When the sanity they had left had no context
to frame the decay of our better selves.
Was it post traumatic or actually, the whole event just a name, nay even
a catalyst, for the dark realization that we had lost our childhood. Queue
social turmoil, gaze awkward at the prettiest girl in school, white flowered
dress and her cocaine change purse, pledging the flag while she’s half in the
bag, like it means something other than Hail G.W.B. W.M.D.

All before we could
learn how to drive drunk, watching our parents from well-buckled seats, letting
me know that they cared enough to strap me in, that they had done the
calculation and decided that it was safer for me to be latched while they
swerved through the lane. They gave me great strategies for coping, because I
can scream louder even without the correct point of view, I can assume wrong at
the hands of a civilian, who votes like the sun’s not going to come out
tomorrow, has 4 years, has 8 years to wait for salvation, for the
optimistic dream is one I’ll sleep late for, until we woke up and realized,
that one man, even one of our best, can not heal the corrupt cruel minds of
scared old white people, who are famous for raising a bluster, bursting their
hearts over high blood pressures,  and
spoiling the good of the upbringing of their children. These damn republicans
want us to just buckle up, and we just want them to drive sober.