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We are the lost generation
One would say we strayed
If there was a path to stray from
To be lost, to not know one's whereabouts is tough
When one doesn't know themselves.
A gap year will solve that problem
Or two
Or eight
Perhaps a gap life might be more appropriate
More appropriate than 3 years of falsities we label as education
Three years of losing oneself
-the self one never owned-
For instant gratification, excessive debauchery
Live now, pay later
In full, with interest
They never warn you of the interest
At some point undergo transformation,
Don't so much follow as pursue your passion as a detective seeks his criminal
Craft your philosophy and prepare for war where
Freedom fighters clash with crashes of the sharpest steel
Shame really,
To be fighting when one does not know what they are fighting for
The world burns and we feed the fire without thinking
The lights are on
Yet we are shrouded in darkness
Cast over by the shadows of our possessions
Acquired as one collects stamps or stones
Stones more like, for they will be too heavy to take with us
As will the paper our degrees are published on
As will the words I scribble furiously, daily
All because my work is by extension, me,
And so with it comes purpose
A bumpy, undefined path for me to trek on
For me to struggle and strive for an invisible finish line
Sans friends and family
Without anyone to shield me from my own monstrous thoughts
Is it fear or control which prevents me from action?
Perhaps a more suitable question for those who do
Take action
Seeing evil, hearing evil, contributing to it
Ignoring it
Ignoring the little boys and girls plucked from their homes
Or forced into silence by the ones they trust
Or watching countries storm their neighbours for no reason
Or even the most ordinary,
Where families are ripped apart and vows are broken
Where we cut and chop and mutilate our flesh to become someone's doppelganger
Where heart, honour and respect mean nothing.
Don't tell me money started this
When evil existed before money
Long before we didn't know who we were
Are.
We are the lost generation
And though I don't know how to be found
Maybe the solution
Is to find each other.
(8:20 P.M.)
I'm out my back door
and into the cities
I've got my hat, phone, wallet,
lighter and keys.
It's a short little walk,
the gas stations not far.
I see where they parked,
I enter the car.

(8:30 P.M.)
Kelsey grabs my hand
and looks me in the eye,
she ignores the centipedes
she sees,
or at least she tries,
she then calmly explains
she's out-of-bodied
the entire car ride
and how she's been
counting the stars
even though its not quite night.
She says we're swimming
through the mountains
and climbing up the seas
but from where I'm sitting
we're still in the back seat.
I ask, "Hey, what's she on?"
"I think LSD.
But don't worry, it's cool,
she's dating the guy
throwing this thing."

(8:40 P.M.)
It's a twenty minute ride,
crammed into the Taurus,
but Ashley's in the front,
getting shots poured out for us.
"To a good night!"
We laugh and proclaim,
we down the first drinks
and start the pre-game.
Hennepin then Franklin
then Grand avenue.
We've already got a buzz
now were smokin buds, too.

(9:05 P.M.)
We pull up
just as the suns going down
and as the moon peeks her face
out from under the clouds.
There's already some kid
face down in the grass
some brilliant soul's pulled his pants down
and sharpied his ***.
I guess he shouldn't have passed out
with his shoes still on;
hopefully nobody patrolling
sees him lying in the lawn.

(9:06 P.M.)
The second thing we notice
are the angels on the porch
They've already bent their halos
and lost their wings, of course.
The beautiful brunette
with half her head shaved
turns to welcome us
with a big friendly wave.
With a smile on her face she says,
"Hi! I'm Mel!
Welcome to our party;
welcome to Hell!"
"Where should we put our drinks?"
"Just leave em in your car!
We've got three kegs
and our very own bar!"
We're escorted inside,
in front of at least a hundred people,
and brought to the roof
with a sign that reads Steeple.

(9:20 P.M.)
Jon's tipping a bottle,
just waiting for Kelsey.
He asks her right away,
"Babe, will you marry me?"
She's too far gone
to know what to say,
so he wraps her in a hug
that makes everything okay.
It's clearly a cute joke,
just some little spiel,
but Kels is so high
she thinks that it's real.

(10:30 P.M.)
We all decide its best
if we leave those newly wed
because, to be frank,
there was a lot of PDA going on in their bed.
Mel starts to lead us
down the winding stairs,
by now the broken halo
escaped from her hair.
She said seeing Kels and Jon
made her feel lonely
so she needs another drink
and wants to get to know me.

(11:45 P.M.)
As it turns out
she's a good partner for pong;
but now she wants to sneak off,
to go rip up her ****.
So we take a trip down the hall
and slide through her door.
let me preface this part:
I never expect to score.

(11:50 P.M.)
She gives the lighter a spark.

(11:53 P.M.)
We're making out in the dark.

(12:15 A.M.)
The silence is broken,
we hear someone scream.
We look at each other,
"What the Hell could that mean?"

(12:20 A.M.)
We're scared, so we joke
about what it could be.
The most likely reason?
Something scared the heavens out of Kelsey.
We say she's probably worried
about alien transplants
and the whole entire time
I'm not wearing my pants.

(12:21 A.M.)
"The cops are here!"
I jumped and ran from her bed.
I don't think I'll see those red skinny jeans
ever again.
I manage a quick goodbye
and then I'm into the Hall.
I find my friend Ashley
and our sober cab Paul.
"Kelsey's with the cops
and Tom left with Nancy,
our cars down the road,
lets head to the street."

(12:25 A.M.)
As we sneak out the back
we hear the cops speak:
"The first kid we found
had **** drawn on his **** cheeks."

(1:05 A.M.)
After a while
the three of us arrive,
back to my place,
though we started with five.
The drive back was extended,
even if Paul was driving well,
because in my drunken stupor
I made him stop at Taco Bell.
We head through the porch,
My roommate's still up.
He asks if we wanna drink
and then goes to grab cups.

(1:50 P.M.)
After a few rounds of Kings
Paul's on the couch, fast asleep,
and James went downstairs,
It's just me and Ashley.

(2:00 A.M.)
We turn a movie on
and we sit in my bed.
We discuss all the things
going through both of our heads.
For three straight hours
she flirted up some guy
'til his girlfriend walked in
and started to cry.
She called Ashley a *****
who swore she didn't know
while dude stared at the ground
and said, "Sorry, bro."
Ashley had enough,
she hates being called a guy,
so she winded one up
and kissed her fist to his eye.

(3:00 A.M.)
We didn't watch the movie,
we just talked some more,
until we fell asleep
keeping one another warm.
Two old friends,
two trips in different Hells
and the only thing to do afterwords
was to laugh at ourselves.
Two old friends,
who's hunt for love was a blunder,
who consoled their loneliness
by wrapping up in each other.
The times aren't meant to be read with the poem, just to give it more style, aesthetically.
i have racked my mind
trying to figure this whole thing out
the staying, the going
the threads we claim hold us here
& the people who've stopped to play a tune on them
i sometimes relate it
to waking up in waist deep snow
in our former selves
the us we wish we could give one another
the children we've sat on the shelves
trapped, like the looks
we leave behind in snow globes
i sometimes imagine ships
dragging the bottom to the sea of "me"
for sleep & pieces of my old self
to sell to the new one
like history doesn't repeat itself
it gets me wondering
if you too want an apology from the rain
or if you dream of burning family photo albums
and wearing the ashes like perfume
if you're anything like me
how i hope god chokes
on memories of me blowing out candles as a child
i know i shouldn't reference my reader  
but don't you know, the only difference
between alone & lonely is you?
that if my hands could talk
the only thing they'd be able to say
is "dear god we've missed you"
and how can you tell me it isn't love
when even the rain refuses to fall
in places where i've kissed you
i remember the day
you found my smile at a yard sale
it reminds me of how you'll leave
i wonder if when you go
you'll tell yourself
the person in the rear view mirror
is closer than they appear

— The End —