the age of aggravation
gravitates in groups
of cooped-up graduates
and dropped-out dreamers.
little do they know, though,
that they sew a common thread
through those tailored uniforms
of silent screamers.
compare, if you dare,
your monkey suit and nametags
to their camouflage shackles
and full metal jackets.
consider, though we may feel the heat,
we are awfully far-removed from hell's kitchen...
our intellectual attacks are like whispers
not even in earshot of the fraudulent racket.
brothers, cousins, friends and foes,
those kids that nobody really knows,
the enlist-because-the-money-he-owes,
the scared-shitless-and-it-surely-shows,
the ones who had to shave their 'fros,
the ones who miss their baggy clothes,
the killers who secretly oppose,
the jr.s and thirds whose daddies chose,
the you-go-firsts who took the blows,
the ones whose trigger-finger froze,
the guys hiding fishnet pantyhose,
the women shattering status quos,
the hope-to-die's at their lowest lows,
the brainwashed patriots and average joes,
the kids who long for midwest snows,
the buddies they watch decompose,
where are all the c.e.o.'s?
and that's the way the story goes.
