POLITICAL Poem: Old Gen Y Dirtbag Leftie Yells At Cloud by Clara No

I’m stuck aging with the rest of these millennial fucks who can only wax nostalgia with what they got. Boy bands, Britney and modem noises. MTV’s last gasp. Kid Rock sucking Scott Stapp’s cock and you bet even the ones in suspenders and man-buns will be there, not knowing whether to jerk off or call them problematic or both. Saving the world and running for office like it’s some Marvel-MAGA-Whole Foods picture-show, only you’re half-blind and kinky and shun anyone who doesn’t flaunt your couture brand of rage whether left or right, and you never quite grew past all that mall goth sarcasm in Congress while determining the fate of millions, did you? You’re boomer lite, sans the money. And you’re gonna vote Regan too. Every generation thinks they invented sex but here we invented tradwives and social justice. Oh mama, can this be the end? To be stuck inside the fascist sequel with the breadtubers again. Wholesome hoedowns and soy palloi, and NPR hosts who speak to us like kindergarten teachers. Let us make a more just, verdant and peaceful world, full of pudgy little Cocomelon banshees who foam sugar and serotonin at the mouth and blink like halls of flashing lights, nothing another whisper-talk about feelings can’t fix they draw blood at the merest request. Pats on the back, “Madison’s on the right track.” She just strangled a cat. But that’s none of anyone’s business anyway. We’re a generation of bad bitches who know what we’re doing and smirk. We’re a generation of bad bitches who shit avocado smoothies and pretend the past lasted all of five seconds because, in a sense, it can only repeat itself

Author: poetryfest

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