my generation is the best



childhood past life, polio sister, measly brother, river blindness,

tetanus twitch, bookworm,  hookworm, head louse, earthworm,

over-baked marshmallow, sunburned matchstick, the posh leech who

loved to feast on your ulcers, seven-year itch and whatnot, bliss it was

playing football in the downpour with those low income diseases

isn’t your generation the best


in an expanding universe, we must be falling more and more apart,

are you still a nightmare to your quarters, have you recovered from

your post-traumatic disorder, from being flogged, stripped naked and

tied up to the school flagpole for spoofing your national anthem,

from being jailed three years after being mistaken for a member of

diamond marble syndicate for your unhealthy lengthy hair, haven’t you

also got eight months extra for being caught red-eared, listening to

stones while stoned, you were a destructive element

your generation is the best


there was no income inequality in your days

everyone was in poverty trap

no capital flight, there was no capital

no brain drainage in the decolonizing sewage system

the server was never down, there was no server

student radicals wore war-paints, not business suits

men didn’t have to commit drunken suicides in ressentiment

they died young for a greater cause in the anti-imperialist struggle

women didn’t have to fight for their rights

they were always kept busy breastfeeding babies

the government never needed to justify its policies through

pro-government policy think-tanks to appease the west

the state was really really prescient


poor prostitutes were routinely rounded up, rich ones were

known as concubines or kept ladies, karaoke bars and korean soap-star

lookalikes were not rampant, race riots were routine, heroin addicts were

given harsh jail terms with hard labour in chained gang, drug kingpins

returning to the legal fold became philanthropists, the kgb antennae and the

tendrils of local spies entangled, the cia’s weren’t everywhere,

brussels wasn’t a bloc, washington wasn’t a consensus

your generation is the best


when you were a tad, you said, the air was cleaner, jungles were greener,

you could drink from any river, mountains were still wholesome blocks of

unspoiled and un-mined soil, if you didn’t like the government party, you could

always become a maoist rebel, or be labelled a pro-american felling axe, things

were black and white, visions were never blurred,

reality didn’t have to be augmented


you imagine, your composers, if their imaginations weren’t confined

in diatonic harmonic hierarchy, would belittle a thousand john cages,

your poets, if they were not politically castrated, would drown a thousand

ron sillimans in their tears, your painters, if their canvases were not narrowly

framed for the shortage of canvas and paint, would make a thousand andy

warhols burn their life’s work in shame, your film makers, if their visions

were not reduced to moscow montage, would bring a thousand

woody allens to their knees…

and you yourself, if and only if…

yes…yes…yes…i dig you…stop weeping…

my generation is the best




ko ko thett
Illustration Nick Victor

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