This is a brief experiment in multi-media poetry. A thought I had regarding the future of publishing as E-readers and "apps" take over the market...
A generation past,
blank by choice,
unlike our current blankness,
one of circumstance.
How many before?
The wasteland gave way
to the roaring twenties,
a Great Depression,
and finally a world war,
at the end of which appeared
the beats.
A pause between wars,
where the American Dream
was not shared by all,
not by those that saw past it.
It was the hippies who took over,
during the next war,
and it was all on television.
They could promise that the revolution
but it was too late for that:
the war ended troop by troop
and that generation wasted away
or else got rich in the end
until the boom went bust.
a bang indeed:
the whimper in the response--
ours to clean up,
ours to grow old with,
ours to fret away,
anxious, sleepless nights,
wondering at tomorrow.
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