You sit tight.
While I invent another word
For the world burning
While symphonies play, and
Quite wonderfully turning,
My mind defines your inevitable decay
You sit tight.
While we – yes us, work this out,
A word for the indecipherable
A word that encompasses unbearable
With a new clause for heaven
And an old talent for hell
Hmm, let it not be said,
That we didn’t all yell,
At once.
Sit tight, sit tight,
While children smoulder in the shanties
Of suburbia
Never to be schooled,
Sit tight,
While the girls of the snap chatted age
Grow old by degrees, less gracious,
More photogenic disease
And boys, engorge themselves with
Muscles expedited..
And the women burn, and the girls turn,
And the children get excited..
Sit tight, let us learn about our age
When did it set itself adrift from these cliffs
Of shaky normalcy?
Our gift?
Of course – but then,
Each generation blames,
Its precedent,
So when, THAT
Generation comes, and we say:
Sit tight, here lies
The last sunrise,
Your demise
The last stormless gormless disguise of our generation,
A last gift to you –
Who….
?
Will then say to them:
Sit tight…all will be well
And we'll all watch it all slip away
Together?
