am i all alone in this generation? where i am not human and human doesn’t mean what it once did in my dad’s era am i a helium vulture floating on wind chimes can you see the real me i’ll give you my eyes see through me see tomorrow’s tidal pools 

hiding psychotic reflections and reactions see through me see through me we will dance a push and pull in the latex sky make it rain and cry for us in the night find our better egos in swollen clouds we will paint the sky cartoon animation black and bruised purple tribal reds dying yellow listen to the sound a mother makes when a baby breaks you decline the invitation little runaway


we can stand in front of armies but we never stand shoulder to shoulder never stand on the shoulders of giants never share burdens and pain never tell our stories to the faces in the dark  basement bars here comes a regular karma’s gonna get you


we can ask the usual suspect questions of the usual suspects the prophets and profiteers the generals and majors the fathers the seers the truth they claim is not our history always at tin-solder war hey we don’t need no fascist groove thing hey i don’t wanna be a soldier we create new words and muscles in this millennium 


let’s go up take me up to become a ray of light or some perfect soul’s daydream 

remember the songs of the freedom the gang of four the fall of lady stardust 

those hard songs of darkness and disgrace i just wanted to walk you home from school 


we can’t divine water we don’t know how to use maps we forgot how to fly the unused dna strand of flight is withered and lame our shared feathers 

fall at the feet of the mother who forever mourns us who stands in a faded time-worn porch waiting just waiting now not wanting or hoping anymore staring at the rubble there grinding the guts and the gears


am i alone in this generation? am i a crying dove because maybe there is hope for the heartbeat maybe hope is a seed in hearts that accelerate or am i a hollow man lamenting the architecture of twisted vines on land once so pregnant green in hope 


we can fly over this wasteland leaving behind the still-born dreams  that rise in the burning skies tell tales of the river that once sustained us fed our reckless naive purpose nothing valuable remains childhood laughter in the breeze gradually fades we still carry the fraudulent memories of every word that means no of the reason we once we had to believe


my life still life finding a place in the early morning rain flying just to fall i guess this must be the place where i am not human where what i am not defines who am i


am i not alone in this generation? 

i am all alone in this generation

i belong to the blank generation 

i am waiting for you

26 dollars in my hand 

please take me up 

don’t leave me here

i’m frantic


we are alone lay together bound by the comfortable lie of love we tell each other but is this where we belong facing the heathen’s rage listening to hank on the radio yesterday is here don’t blink you just about missed it when we will witness

john coltrane and lady day when you and i have been in the cold distance where time talks falsely of the past and future where we watch tail lights fade from red to nothing


“i won’t give up. don’t let me give up. take me up.” - Patti Smith, Birdland 1976

generations from patti smith