For the ‘You Know’ Generation
One day we are walking in the desert,
the next, entrancing on a verb.
The mayor asks us for a speck of dust to boil.
The rain has moved to Eastern earth.
We had never missed the water,
reason being absent in the West.
North and South our hands had mimed a language
for the tongues we mottled in our mouths.
But while the words are thinner,
and sentences are worse;
the subjects, once agreeable,
now disagree on course. Syntax bows
to “you know,” and simile to “like.”
And while the mayor boils dust
to gain a speck of water,
we will talk, you know, into the desert
and verbalize, like, you know, our verse,
and dust will fill a fossil
for the law Pascal our mayor quotes,
that while the pressure in a fluid
spreads equidistant to every border,
dust will be rationed coast to coast.