Starbucks coffee sits before me.
The nucleus of this cell
Is the Northwest corner
Of College and Euclid.
One table standing vacant
Within an adolescent sea.
Their Feet stuck in Uggs.
Eyes double scooped behind Gabbana and Dolce.
My Starbucks cup says:
“Careful, the beverage you
Are about to enjoy
Is extremely hot.
This cup is also made
With 10% postconsumer
90% shredded and refined Mother Nature.
10% shredded and bleached casualties
From previous generations of consumers.
How many generations does my Starbucks cup contain?
I could count them in ring stains.
Or how long it takes to disintegrate
Through seasons of heavy rain.
Fast approaches an old man
Stepping toward the frosted-
Salt bitten door.
He smiles at no one and nothing-
Funny. He invades personal space.
He asks for a light and a coin.
Smiling mouth stained with nicotine.
Teeth missing or obscene.
His upturned almond shaped palm has
Lines running like the pacific railway.
His lips read:
I hold faith for
The human population.
Generation always fears generation.
Politics breeds regicide.
Alcohol breeds patricide.
Advertising breeds genocide.
Some blessed and cursed with hindsight.
Some jealous and intrigued in curiosity.
Have you seen the youth today?
“Have you seen the youth today?”
Wonderment replaced by Apple apps.
Everything that dazzles
The adult trickles downstream
Along with the sullage.
Selling self-esteem in
Bar limes and LuLu Lemons.
Pants covering less ass
Than if it were painted black.
She thumbs her cleavage
And gives you her back.
“My generation is a dying breed.”
Kane and Able to recall days
Of a social media free society.
Forever forward in a soft glowing
IPhone and Kindle ecstasy.
My Facebook I.D.
Is addressed to York University.
My dentist informed me:
Your silver fillings contain mercury.
As though when I was fifteen
He was not associated with dentistry.
I can Google something faster
Than the time it takes to answer.