degYneration

I found this poem while killing time and going through some of my old folders saved on my laptop. It was a type of slam poetry that I was into at one time. Written more to be performed rather than simply read. It was definitely written when I was in active addiction, that's obvious in its context; however, I'm kinda proud of it despite its subject matter....

degYneration
Miles Jay Oliver
Hey!
What’s up?!
You know us, you’ve seen us before
at the premier for that blockbuster that was such a bore.
Yes, we know, we are looking a little bit thin,
but if we’re not mistaken, weren’t you skinnier back then?
Speaking of which, remember graduation?
We’re sure you’ve got a VHS from the camcorder that day.
Well, you told us that we could do anything,
That nothing, nor no one, would get in our way.
We just want you to know that we know that you lied,
and that’s okay.
Hey, calm down!
Don’t freak out on us!
We’re just a voice, the out-spoken speakers and tellers of our story.
It’s a best-seller, too, full of passion and courage and dissolution and glory.
Our V-chips,

thank you for your censorships, by the way,
allow us to block out your judgments while we have something to say.
Once again,

our gratitude, for your trouble; you’ve been most gracious and kind,

but we’re revived and rewired and remixed to feed your mind.
Don’t worry, my dear,

that’s only our music you hear.
We’re logged on and downloading from www.libertines.com,
and we got all the songs from Lime Wire to burn on a Pentium CD-ROM.
We are who we are.
Once,the ramblings of ecstasy & marijuana, holy rollers and pot heads,
the unmistakable keepers of our dreams and fantasies.
We are still the day-after journal entries of the creative partiers,

the Aquarians and the Ravers,
the unfulfilled wish masters of our uncertain destinies.
We were dehydrated and prepackaged in brown paper sacks,
but our friends all had forties,

so we gave ‘em the shirts off our backs.
We’re sorry,

we’ve tried it your way, but it doesn’t make sense,
our credit's maxed out and hate crimes are dense.
With our Army men dying in the Middle East,
not even safe in our schools.
Look where it’s gotten us…living by your rules:
No Shoes! No Shirt! No Service!
….the side effects may include nervousness….
No talking while the bus is in motion.
Get lubed up, but avoid scented lotion.
EXIT ONLY!! THIS IS NOT AN ENTRANCE!!!
“Lead us not into temptation and deliver us from transcendence (Oliver).”
Honey, Mommy’s pills are not candy,
Daddy takes two once a week to make him feel randy.
Don’t jump on the bed! It’s furniture, not a toy!
You shouldn’t wear pink, son, it’s not right for a boy.
You can’t shoot tequila with a kidney infection,
and cut out the chocolate to clear your complexion.
Bank twenty percent for a rainy day.
Chew up your Flintstones to keep the doctor at bay.
Just add one ounce of Evian and serve us over ice,
We’re delicious to sip while you preach against vice.
We want to believe that our dreams will come true,
but everyday we see where your dreams have gotten you.
Dissatisfaction abounds as our nihilists make their rounds.
Our juxtaposing themes represent our catalogued schemes.
We are a pig sty of perfect order amidst your chaos,
your paisley, retro paneling you keep clean with 409.
Let the cheerleaders and Republicans bring the laurels to us
while we dance the debauched dance of cocaine and red wine.
It is what it is.
We are who we are.
We’ve been where we’ve been,
and we’re gonna go far.
We’re the stone in your shoe, the apple in your garden,
and if we’ve offended you, then we do beg your pardon.
You may turn off the news now and go back to bed
while visions of our sugarplum realities dance through your head.
Close your eyes and dream
of our schemes and our themes.
We will toil till they’re true,
And our world will seem like new.
Just remember our thanks for all that you’ve given.
You’ve left us ambitious and hopeful….licentious, but driven.
In conclusion,

we invite you to study these lines,
and to please document the text.
It’s the voice of the post-Modern generation next.