The 66er
Born to parents
Who swore
They would change everything
But couldn’t even
Change a light bulb
Hid away
In his cube
Coding
A product of the
Uranus-Pluto Conjunction.

And here
He remained
Abandoned to his
Morbid nihilism
Because he knew
He was more likely
To be nurtured By aliens
Than he was
By his Terra Mather.

He thought about
Writing his masterpiece
"It’ll take an Omish Village"
The synergic *******
Of Hillary’s Village
With M Night Shyamalan’s Village
Because to raise children
In a global village
While A river runs through it
Due to sea level rise
Might require less cars on petrol
And more carts on ponies.
But he doubted
The world was ready.

At five he drove home
Like the other blind insects
Turned on the AC
In his apartment
Even though it was December
And he lived in Maine
Lit his ****
Took a drag
And watched his neighbors
Drain the power grid
With their Christmas light display.

Poor *******
Being born
Progerically old
Knowing that nothing good
Lay ahead
Because nothing good
Came from behind
No escaping the pain
Of this ontological linearity
But **** took the edge off.
And hedonism
His only escape
Out of the awfulness
Of nothing.