Micropoetry Monday: Children of the 80s & 90s

Payphone

When Generation X
met Generation Y,
2019 went out with a bang;
9 ½ months later,
Generation Z was born,
& Gens X & Y,
who had heretofore
watched the ball drop
at midnight,
dropped their ball of fun
in her crib at 8 o’,
wishing they could go out
with a bong.

She had jumped into relationships,
leaped at every opportunity,
& thrown herself into projects
she knew she couldn’t finish.
She was self-destructive in her inability
to focus,
never knowing that she had already met
the right man,
found the perfect opportunity,
started the right project—
she simply hadn’t become
the right person for them . . . yet.

She’d grown up hearing her mom come home every day
& talk about the itch-bay from ork-way,
tell Daddy to shut the front door (when it was already closed),
& get her to come running at the prospect
of indulging in her favorite confection,
only to be told that it was not that kind of fudge,
for it had 4 characters rather than 4 ingredients;
however, when she became a mom,
she realized that motherhood came
with a built-in filter,
with her boss being the ick-day who never shut the fudge up
& where she & hubby went to an in-house ball game twice a week,
where extra innings were based on the quality of the first
& peanuts and Cracker Jack meant something else entirely.

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