deepundergroundpoetry.com
My Generation
Every inevitable misfortune we bestow upon the future is looked upon as collateral
Calculating every potential profit margin, we throw our brothers to the side; lateral
Perpetual pushers peddling putrid pills and powders, perilously persuading pupils pervasively
Engorging, engaging, enflaming, enraging, every elder edict erased entirely, exterminating evidence evasively
Stripping every syllable of dignity, speaking vulgar patois, every word spilling from our lips at Mach-3 velocity
Urgently purging incoherent nothings to still the hand of silence; your disjointed garble reeks of pomposity
As a people, we’ve devolved into a mutant race, running away from logic in an attempt to place first.
We’ve defiled Webster and left him in a Random House; we forsake Oxford’s but continue to Converse.
Calculating every potential profit margin, we throw our brothers to the side; lateral
Perpetual pushers peddling putrid pills and powders, perilously persuading pupils pervasively
Engorging, engaging, enflaming, enraging, every elder edict erased entirely, exterminating evidence evasively
Stripping every syllable of dignity, speaking vulgar patois, every word spilling from our lips at Mach-3 velocity
Urgently purging incoherent nothings to still the hand of silence; your disjointed garble reeks of pomposity
As a people, we’ve devolved into a mutant race, running away from logic in an attempt to place first.
We’ve defiled Webster and left him in a Random House; we forsake Oxford’s but continue to Converse.
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