with love to dad, a present from the Rhine
from the last trip that you were allowed on
found in the attic, a cracked old stein
a relic of your youthful rebellion
it is the prerogative of youth to rage
how we laugh at our parents’ tacky crap
I did. I was a hippy at that age –
there were musicals before there was rap
we offend our children, they will theirs
we call upon the young to show decorum
they call us nerds, or straights, or squares
do not go out like that, we implore them
we leave our past, but then, it comes back
nostalgia is in. Grey is the new black
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