Young Men

at the height of adult adolescence, that leap into going it alone and relying on the lessons you've learned about the present
the teachings of your past
the instructions included in the package of You
memory and intuition
that ability to make decisions and live with the consequences
the obvious failures bumping you back on fate's track
young men sent out into the world with their few emotions filed in a briefcase,
or saved on a server in tucson
accessible with a secret password
a secret emotion
a combination of unfortunate incidents proving your lack of power
red blood violence flashes before your eyes
another member of the programmed mass
stamped with masculinity's seal of approval
rage shot into your veins
under your control out the barrel of a gun
another bullet to your consciousness
another bootprint on the back of a minority
as you climb, climb so high you're addicted to the altitude
convinced you will feel this way forever
and your past will dissolve like the faces of the souls you swallowed on your way up

it's the bright lights they're after
some sort of infamy packaged in prison orange
poverty and privilege prowling razor-wired pens across the country
spotlights and rifles trailing across the stage
there's no time for the acceptance speech in the eyes of the parole board
you are and you are not
the "what" is up to the faces behind the desk
the ones breathing the freedom he so covets
the righteous sinners with his life in their hands
it is their bright lights he has captured
realizing the sound of cells closing at lights out is no substitution for applause

March 1, 2008

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