poetry

is the purest

form of journalism

in an age stripped
of its innocence

.

where the huddled masses

are reeling from the latest

upgraded Halliburton version

of the vietnam war

.

as children of the eighties

we wore throwback peace signs

waxed romantic for woodstock

and tie dyed everything

because we wanted in on the optimism

the blatant irreverence

we wanted a hit off their cause

.

now we have our own vietnam

and our children are craving

the eighties

laughably

a time we considered

a decade of decadence

coining the phrase greed is good

yet they view it as a simpler time

.

i suppose

that is the natural order of things

in an unnatural world

.

besides

in the eighties

we still had food

that would biodegrade

because it wasn’t

made from polymers

.

pete rose

didn’t break my town’s heart

’til 89

after having made it swell to heaven

in 84

.

don’t make direct contact with another human

don’t believe anything the government tells you is the truth

and don’t drink the water

as mr. murrow would say

ladies and gentlemen…

 

good night, and good luck