I remember singing karaoke
We were young
but we sang adult songs
see, we understood the concepts
our own worst enemies
even as pre-teens
can you believe it?
the throes of puberty
a living music-video
I loved deeper at 13
than I probably could now
at Whitey’s bar
we were groped by bearded bikers
And we didn’t care
We did the same
In our free time
It was a different time, I suppose,
I remember the bonfires
and actually giving a shit
about something, about anything,
we burned our homework
on the last day of school
and we had freedom, and love, and muse,
and now it’s all gone
unless these kids save the world
like the kid at the end of the Lorax,
from duck-lips and the emptiness,
and the relentless offended agenda
We touched each other at the edge of the football field,
we crowd-surfed, and bought weed with lunch money
the internet was only good for stealing music
and we kissed when we wanted.
We weren’t afraid to bleed.
We didn’t need your permission
to speak, or love, or act.
Imagine that
A place where we practiced
the freedom you insist upon
Long before you got here.
What makes you special?
Your skin? Your genitals?
I beg you to
Shock me,
you
generic, entitled,
polarizing
bore.