Tuesday, November 9, 2010

I found a man named Luxury

I found a man named Luxury

And climbed up on his lap, to see

what answers to The Question he

might have for Generation Me

For Generation Y


For generation Why, and How

For generation Do Me Now

We push the cart and pull the plow

We swear our freedom, and we bow

to painted porcelain kings


I found a King named Microsoft

Queens Google, Lexus, Davidoff

With smarter car, and higher loft

So while our minds grow Downy-soft

Our speech grows cheap... not free


Give us this day our low-carb bread

And do to us as Oprah said

Sell pills for demons in our head

And guides for books our fathers read

for roads our fathers walked


We'll savor loose philosophy

In coffeeshops where we drink tea

We're coffee-shopping for the key

to holes in Dad's theology

And maybe to his heart


So give us now our daily cleanse

And pierce us with Palm Pilot pens

Tell us our stories through a lens

Design a logo for our sins

And sell them to us cheap


One day we'll notice that we're old

we'll notice that our kids are cold,

Our marriages are green with mold

But as for now--no need to scold

History must repeat

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