On being 21 in 2011 in your women studies course, and coming to the conclusion that you may never experience serious relationship…
First off,
Ironically enough, you aren’t alone in this epiphany.
Because you set through statistics, half stoned and passed with a B…
You are
Now
Obviously a math genius
And quite aware of your chances
In this particular scenario.
You may find yourself living in a country
Where Beyonce’s and Jay Z’s unborn child has a twitter.
And that’s says a lot more about the disregard and disrespect for life and the sanctity of marriage
Than the fight for Lgbt equality
You passed sociology and political science with a’s
Also pretty stoned.
You are barley two decades
Of bug bites and dramatic exits.
Your longing is mistaken for smug laughter and mix tapes
You tattoo anything you find prettier than you
On yourself
in hopes of improving our view
David constructs; reversed: add essentially, whatever you can
To make a masterpiece
Present it: scripted sculpture
Really
Its alterations
It’s drying paint on a foreclosed home.
It’s a mockery of a beautiful art form
You do not turn tradition into trend
And still expect the old ways like love to be consistent
You aren’t stupid
Just young,
Your generation does not know the definition of courting
It’s smoking pin up dolls in their grandmothers old hat box.
Or in the backseat of their great Uncles 1964 Ford Thunderbolt.
It is masturbating like the rest of the revolution
A relationship for you means: how long can we pretend not to want to fuck other people`
When does the importance of poetry switch lips
How does your lower torso feel after?
Does it matter as long as you’re still out of breath?
Adrenaline is as close as you’ve come
To the I knew it was real when metaphor
Every “how I met your so and so” story will start with
once upon a face book.
And end in
“HAPPILY NEVER TWITTER”
Lil Wayne is your relationship counselor
Lady gaga the Hera you pray to for fertility
It is silly
Ridiculous really to consider serious
An adjective
In anyway directly or indirectly related to you
And if so distant lessons
Twice removed.
Your flirting is fucking
No metaphor
No flowers
Your cuddling is
clubbing in a small space
You never once associated hand holding with :dancing
Except when it comes to marriage
You never think of marriage
Unless a baby comes first
Your back never thinks of babies
Until a wall is against it
Engagements are as extinct
As unicorns and commitment.
We are only religious
On Sundays and surveys
The rest of time
We pray to ourselves
In private
And it goes like this
Dear Me: if you would be as gracious as take those hearts
You left cooling in the oven out, Karma has called six times about the smell.
I appreciate all the blood you spilled for me; I wish it did not belong to such beautiful women.
If you can
Forgive me for letting
Nameless orgasms
Take my place at your alter
And
If you
Grant me the ability to see the dead
Not only will I stop getting stoned before class
But I will wait to talk to my dad and bob Marley
Instead I will unselfishly
Find affection and ask her, her secrets,
and if by chance she tells me
I’ll tell the world.