Children Of The Baby Boomer

You bring me bones,
I cannot walk.

You have the hours,
I don’t deserve time.

It is nothing anymore,
there in that cheap
apartment building,

my father has a moustache,

he smeared SpaghettiOs
on the walls.

We live in a giant daycare nursery
built for the entire world.

My flesh is not as good
as the muscles that hold your
back.

On Monday
I’m boarding a space cruiser
for the land of opportunity.

You have the hours,
I don’t deserve time.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
READ POETRY tewkMehrtin animated gif image

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s