Kumbaya

 

I saw the storm pass over

& the skyline littered with dreams.

I saw the best of my generation fall

& our metaphors recede.

I saw the grownups playing dirty

while the kids did cocaine.

“You only live once.”

YOLO.

No shame.

We are the children of the YOLO.

Father Time, we call f*ggot.

We don’t love life.

We grab it by the hair and shag it.

We take this shit with bravado:

straight, no chaser —

like a bullet to the brain.

We dubstep in the moonlight,

dropping the bass

like

drones

drop

bombs

on

kids.

“This is the Voice”

but it is the voice of global pain.

We saw how our elders play with lives.

Fuck that.

We’re just going to get fucked up again.

Our TVs are mini-coliseums

for us to watch our neighbors bleed.

This is the Third Commandment:

buy yourself some damn good weed.

All we have are First World problems

but they weigh on us just the same.

Third World problems are for missions trips,

We call them the Hunger Games.

I saw the storm pass over

& the skyline littered with dreams.

I saw the best of my generation fall

& our metaphors recede.

Jesus turned water into wine

but jack shit into Xanax.

Now we can’t go to church.

We’re so purpose driven,

we’re manic.

(We need Xanax.)

(Give us Barabbas.)

These drugs are gifts from God,

signs of the times.

We are a city on a hill,

our teeth stained with wine and we’re

doped out on meds to the point that

we shine our drugged smiles from coast to shining coast.

We can’t hide it under a bushel, no!

We are going to let it shine

and roast

because

We.

Can’t.

Fucking.

Stop.

I see us shake

& drop

& it’s Kumbaya, lord,

I wish I could feel again

& stop my skin from crawling.

It’s Kumbaya, lord,

I wish I could feel less.

All I see on Facebook

is people liking

this whole fucking mess

& somedays I just wish that

life had a link to log out.

Some days I wish I could

undo your caps lock

so you would whisper,

not shout.

(There are dull chainsaws

ripping up my stomach

like empathy on crack.)

I saw the storm pass over

& the skyline littered with dreams.

I saw the best of my generation fall

& our metaphors recede.

We are Generation LOL —

with 50 Shades of AMAs —

but Joshua got fired for harassment,

& Ruth is 16 and pregnant from rape.

Ruth is 16

& pregnant from rape.

Esther OD’ed.

Conversion didn’t take.

This, then, is how the world ends:

not with a bang,

neither with a whimper.

It ends with you puking

& me holding your hair

back from your face.

You had one too many cocktails

aptly named “Amazing Grace.”

I saw the storm pass over

& the skyline littered with dreams.

I saw the best of my generation fall

& our metaphors recede.

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10 thoughts on “Kumbaya”

  1. Wow, that’s powerful. Have you been listening to a lot of hip hop lately? At first, I thought it was lyrics to a new song, the rythym and the raw bluntness of it made me think of hip hop.

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