TwoThousandSixTEEN

A Poem by CookeCody

We want everything to be romantic, Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the summer, dreaming more than playing. Our facts are debatable, our beliefs undeniable, our denial is amnesia that smells like shame. Sadness is glory, for to us if you're sad, then you're a survivor, then you're wise, and wisdom has always been gold. We speak with our fingers. The best of us are Olympians, and we the Romans sulk in our unrecognized authenticity. We are a social Politick, contracted together to laugh in the face of doom in the name of pride. Power has recently been shifted to us, but we're greedy and humble, so now it goes back and forth from blame to explanation, an orphan with potential but without guidance. We've never looked to the future with brighter eyes because the present is such a large and unwritable place that we can't look at it all at once; but we can look at the entire future so long as someone spells HOPE in all caps and blue font. We don't care about progress, we prefer change, and there's a difference: progress requires effort (and we're lazy), change is natural (and we're organic). We look for ourselves in songs and movies because only the beautiful and make-believe can fit our egos. We follow not those that we trust, but those that we like. Our food is either poisoned or grass, and both the witches and the cows hate each other in the agreed-upon name of prosperity. The days tick by, swallowed by everyone's music, which drowns out the sound of the crickets that we fear. The stupid jeer at the ridiculous, and the ridiculous insult the indifferent, and the indifferent are getting restless. Peace is a cloud above our crowd, and we're parched, but it never rains; so we fight for that rainwater by creating coughing machines that help our problem. We're caustic, cautious, self-loathing narcissists who always never (and vice-versa) get our way. IN 2016, WE F*****G FIGHT FOR WHAT WE BELIEVE IN, AND WHAT WE BELIEVE IN IS PEACE, PEACE GODDAMMIT.