"X" Anne Marie Powell
March, 1998
2:00 pm mountain time Frontier flight # 532 SFO to DIA
We are the generation
We are writhing and shrieking
Nodding out on heroin
Or tweeking out on speed
Smoking
Fucking
Eyes open in the darkness
A thin layer of latex between us
And our lives
Greeting from the void
left by babies that boom
all that cocaine
and down down down downsizing
Wish you were here.

We are leaping and dancing
Lights flashing
Rhythms pounding
A grand cathedral of ecstasy
Libido, funk, and style
We interrupt this catharsis
Because you must drink water
Or you could die of exhaustion
Dehydration, disillusion
Much of the strength of the tribe has been lost
Operating system failure
Abort, Retry, Ignore

The pounding pounding pounding
Inside
pounding pounding
Outside
It’s good for you
The pounding
The inevitable grounding
But the windows don’t open
In the shiny new prisons
Of our not so distant future.
Got to sneak out now.

2 Big Macs for Two Buck, damn.
Wanna go?

  
   
Poetry © 1990 to 2002 Anne Marie Powell, All Rights Reserved ~ reproduced with permission of the Author

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