Generation Jones

I spent a lot of time, trying to put my feelings about this generational thing into a prose piece but nothing seemed to work. But the truth is, some things can only be said in verse. So, check this out:
When we were old enough to sit up on our own, Mom and Pop
plopped our impressionable, young (still developing?) brains down
in front of the boob tube and we watched in rapt fascination as
the mightiest nation on earth got its ass handed to it by
Little people in black pajamas and sandals made from shit we’d
thrown away, while simultaneously putting a human being on
the god damned moon. If you think that won’t fuck you up,
I suggest you think again.
They call us Generation Jones and say we’re obsessed with keeping
up with those proverbial people, or that we’re jonesin’ for a fix of the
good life that’s always existed just outside our reach. I’m not so sure
because I can’t see that we care that much about anything. How can
We when we saw our older brothers and sisters riding high on that
crazy post-war boom, expecting the same for ourselves. But
our defining moment wasn’t a war or a movement, it was was
the bust of that boom, leaving us with ghost towns and gas lines
As we sat, wrapped around the block, begging to pay two or three times
as much for the same old calcified carcasses as our elders had just
a few years before. Finding out the world’s a pregnant pile of shit
was tough, made tougher when we were tossed in with those
arrogant, entitled asshole Boomers. It’s fucked us up for
Years. Forced to suck up and make common cause with bastards
who fucked us out of our birthright (without even the decency
to offer us a bowl of stew in return), we tried so god damned hard
to be something we knew we weren’t, hoping against hope that
we’d reach that promised land.
But, it never happened and now some of us are finally finding
a way to say “Fuck it. I’m out” and leave behind that bullshit
we were taught from birth. that grinding it out from the cradle
to the grave is the gold standard of a grown up. We’re
hitting the road in ‘Bagos made from box trucks, doing
odd jobs to get by while carving out a life we actually want
to live instead of punching a clock and making widgets
until we collapse from the sheer fucking boredom of it all.
You can take your “gold” standard and shove it where the sun
don’t shine ’cause Generation Jones ain’t fucking with that shit
anymore. In the words of our voidoid prophet,
We belong to the blank generation
and we can take it or leave it each time.