Kids today
gather in the shopping
mall coffee shops
and talk of
revolution.
They dress in
uniforms of youth
ripped jeans,
faded t-shirts,
store-bought and new.
They clack down
rally cries
on their birthday
laptops.
They misplace their
ill-begotten rage,
just like we did
when we were kids.
1 comments:
I like the old man feel of the first line and how it instantly makes this poem nostalgic. The second stanza even furthers this nostalgic notion with the garb that the kids wear. It looks old, but it's new. This poem is very Chris Andrews.
Do you have a collection brewing about youth and/or age?
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