Ejected out
into the dark sea stranded world
circa that Orwellian year
struck and set ablaze
like a signal flare
of generational distress
and discontent.
Now some two decades
of madness
and cultural slumping…
relegated out of place like
a landlocked lighthouse—
this is our beacon,
our hope
our drive
a desperation to shine
brighter than
that flypaper box
of streaming electron beams
and the Mtv race for
the bottom.
We are that oxidized-green light
and that longing
for a distant shore.
Give us your outcast,
your tired poor
with tear eroded raw cheeks
cut deeply in
mourning the death stillbirth
of the American Dream.
