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John F McCullagh Aug 2018
By
MEG ELISON


I am the very model of a modern-age millennial,
I’ve got no cash, no house, no kids, and student debt perennial,
I know the rules of Tinder, and I’m not sold on monogamy
(For what it’s worth I think that stems from troubles ‘tween my mom and me)
I’m very well acquainted, too, with matters on the gender front
Myself, I am nonbinary; your labels I so do not want
Been disillusioned by my expectations with a lot o’ stuff,
The skills with which I am equipped for life are frankly not enough

My job prospects are hobbled by insistence on a living wage
Compete at entry level with some washed-up folks at twice my age
In matters of identity, employment and such petty ills
I am the very model of a modern-age millennial
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On Monday I killed Applebee’s, on Tuesday I axed country clubs
I’ve never bought a diamond and I have no use for cashmere gloves
I quote dank internet memes in lieu of sharing actual thoughts
For earnestness has been passé since sometime in the early aughts
Still advertisers flail and fail to capture all my buying power
(The sum of which amounts to renting GIG cars by the paltry hour)
I’m subject to the bleak nostalgia of Generation Xers
And YouTube sensibilities adored by web-savvy youngsters
So I get to the take the blame for our country’s tanked economy
While fighting for my basic rights and ****** autonomy
In short I’m ****** in matters from the vital to the trivial
I am the very model of a modern-age millennial

In fact, when I know what is meant by "social justice warrior”
When I can tell at sight a fascist MRA conspirator
When such affairs are treated as unsolvable new mysteries,
I shake my head and wonder if the Boomers studied history
When I have learnt what progress has been made and then just flushed away
My generation’s best bet looks like playing Fortnite drunk all day
In short, if you’re angry right now and spewing aged white vitriol
Remember you created me: the modern age millennial

For I’m the generation raised upon the game Monopoly
You’re hoarding all the wealth and jobs and mock me for my poverty
So now I’m skewing socialist with discourse quite ungenial
Please check your local ballots for the modern-age millennial
I am reposting this good song parody by author Meg Elison as I am a fan of Gilbert and Sullivan
Kim Cancer Oct 2019
This is not a story. This is not literature.
This is a spit in the face.
A kick in the nuts. A punch in the ***.
A shooting spree,
of consonants and vowels, aimed at snowflakes.

This is to be loathed. This is to cause anger.
This is to be deleted, blocked, downvoted, canceled and hated.
Demonetized
by coding corpses in Silicon Valley

It is my hope a Twitter Mob forms,
curses my name, relegates me to Louis CK status.

This is my ***** and I take it out
a dark web palm reader for the snowflakes.
This is my ***** and I take it out
to **** on the face of all Boomers, Gen Xers
and especially the Millennials and Gen Z

You who have grown with smartphones akin to limbs,
priapic pineal glands, ophthalmic screens…

You who have “emotional support animals”
I hope your emotional support animal
mauls you to death like an Alaskan grizzly bear
and you ******* die like that execrable Australian crocodile ****

You who have “safe spaces”
I want to rig your safe spaces
with prepositions, adverbial pipe bombs
and laugh as they explode like an Ariana Grande concert

Yes, YOU, you snowflakes…

You who have transformed young America
into a coddled wasteland
of mock outrage, moaning prudes

You who subscribe to video game streams on YouTube
You who pay punk *** PewDiePie his millions
while the greatest living poet in America works as a janitor!

You who fight over bathrooms
You who bastardize legitimate arguments,
shame those who marched
shame those who righteously died

You who vote Republican and Democrat
You who watch CNN, MSNBC, and Fox News
You who wish to silence creators
You who are triggered
You who can’t take a joke
You who can’t fathom opposing views
You who Yelp, write online reviews
in braille
You who protest Sarah Silverman and Dave Chappelle

You, you snowflakes: I want to reach into your toilets
to smear myself in your ****
and kick at your ***** and ***** as you whine online about my blackface

I want to punch your nose
paint myself in your blood and attack your colleges
with wadded up copies of The Naked Lunch and Tropic of Cancer

I want to hack Spotify
replace every playlist with Public Enemy on a continuous loop
and blast 2 Live Crew
from loudspeakers down every boulevard in Northern California

I want to hog-tie conservatives, make them watch gay ****
I want to hog-tie liberals, make them watch monster truck rallies

Because your phone can block
Your phone can delete
But energy cannot be destroyed

And ART, speech, thought
Are the purest form of energy
The very flesh of emotion…

Currency both malefic and supernal!

And now, snowflakes
now I tie your noose
I grind my knife to your throat
I aim my AK at your temples
Just to tell you this:

Sticks and stones can break my bones
But words will always nourish me…

Let there be commerce!
For the snowflakes...

— The End —