A GENERATION



The mummied death mask of the seventies
pickled in nostalgia for Gen X

spit roast betwixt Boomers and Millennials.
We were naive and born too young for sex

though Love’s summer and patchouli came
late to Aotearoa.

                               Carrie Fisher
was for us the seventies: cocaine,
Paul Simon and Star Wars.

                                                 No ambition
for houses made of promises and air.
Cold War, Think Big, Stagflation, and Oil Crisis –

we feral latchkey kids were unaware:
Orphic Cobain and the internet were the devices

our blazoned tropes.
The nineties were the seventies redux,

without the hope.

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