Poem 92

The last generation of a trouble child with a bad attitude.
Don’t talk like that at the table
Chew with your mouth closed
Stop stabbing your brother with your fork
This is how I imagine America coming coming coming around the corner of the world
A trouble child with a bad attitude

And he? He has his handprint on the heartbeat,
Cradle and Jesus and history bitten in stone
We know the sand, the salt
The distance of the ocean from a plane headed west, west, west
It’s the world that gets bigger, broader, older and we are looking at the last generation of something
Call it globalization, call it the world wide window… Forward and backward.
We are the last generation of a culture clash, the last fragments of culture, Timeless instant clay

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