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Jan 05, 2009
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Cosmetique (like these things you call teens)
Sure, the dice will drop,
coffee cups will break
and shit will hit the fan.
Your perfect will fade away,
your 'golden days' will become
what teens know as uncool,
or maybe retro,
and this will all be recycled
into this summers fashion guides.
Some girl will spread to some guy
she just met a party.
And unknowingly,
she'll give him AIDS,
which'll later be cought on a yearly doctors check,
which will spur into sexual frustration.
Leading him to rape and kill
two girls, ten years later in his thirties.
You think that the younger generations
are dirty and over-sexualized,
too violent or something like this.
Your parents often fought in your childhood,
though they have broken up now.
"To the cosmique youth:
you removed a rib-bone to felattiate yourself,
you had a spleen replacement at 23,
you work for a bank on week-days,
and you like buying expensive casual clothes.
Congratulations!"
You're at church.
You're lecturing.
You're talking to your 23 year-old son over mobile phone.
You're in a cafe,
chatting with your friends.
You're writing something
that you've been working on for two weeks.
You're driving your car to work.
A fourteen year-old lass
climbs out of her bedroom window at midnight,
and jumps over the fence-
she's going to see her boyfriend.
A sneaky little shit
buys his first can of spray paint
at the local cheapo store.
And two hours later,
he'll get arrested
before he even
sprays his name on a wall.
Blood runs down a young girls leg
in the middle of family dinner,
and she's got her first period,
so she rushes off embarrased,
hoping no-one saw.
A giraffe in the closest zoo
munches away at leaves,
while tourists and little children take photos
and over admire something with a long neck.
It starts to rain.
You rush out to gather the washing.
An age ago,
a few rocks came flying
through the galatique
like surfboards without riders,
like these things you call teens.
Banged around in this atmosphere
and so on,
before coming to the ground as pebbles,
or maybe Uluru,
the hole that's known as the Grand Canyon,
Stone Henge
or caused the Big Bang.
A sperm and ovum hit each other
and make a baby,
which will be one
and five and fourteen
and twenty-two and thirty-six
and fourty-nine and sixty
and seventy six and will eventually die.
coffee cups will break
and shit will hit the fan.
Your perfect will fade away,
your 'golden days' will become
what teens know as uncool,
or maybe retro,
and this will all be recycled
into this summers fashion guides.
Some girl will spread to some guy
she just met a party.
And unknowingly,
she'll give him AIDS,
which'll later be cought on a yearly doctors check,
which will spur into sexual frustration.
Leading him to rape and kill
two girls, ten years later in his thirties.
You think that the younger generations
are dirty and over-sexualized,
too violent or something like this.
Your parents often fought in your childhood,
though they have broken up now.
"To the cosmique youth:
you removed a rib-bone to felattiate yourself,
you had a spleen replacement at 23,
you work for a bank on week-days,
and you like buying expensive casual clothes.
Congratulations!"
You're at church.
You're lecturing.
You're talking to your 23 year-old son over mobile phone.
You're in a cafe,
chatting with your friends.
You're writing something
that you've been working on for two weeks.
You're driving your car to work.
A fourteen year-old lass
climbs out of her bedroom window at midnight,
and jumps over the fence-
she's going to see her boyfriend.
A sneaky little shit
buys his first can of spray paint
at the local cheapo store.
And two hours later,
he'll get arrested
before he even
sprays his name on a wall.
Blood runs down a young girls leg
in the middle of family dinner,
and she's got her first period,
so she rushes off embarrased,
hoping no-one saw.
A giraffe in the closest zoo
munches away at leaves,
while tourists and little children take photos
and over admire something with a long neck.
It starts to rain.
You rush out to gather the washing.
An age ago,
a few rocks came flying
through the galatique
like surfboards without riders,
like these things you call teens.
Banged around in this atmosphere
and so on,
before coming to the ground as pebbles,
or maybe Uluru,
the hole that's known as the Grand Canyon,
Stone Henge
or caused the Big Bang.
A sperm and ovum hit each other
and make a baby,
which will be one
and five and fourteen
and twenty-two and thirty-six
and fourty-nine and sixty
and seventy six and will eventually die.
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