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Rated: E · Poetry · History · #2213987
The younger generation doesn't get us. Hat tip to the Lovin' Spoonful for closing lines.
He said,
I am God’s Son, worship me!
Nations feared and obeyed,
chiseled tribute, praise, endless
new names into stelas
to buy breath of life another day.

Peripatetic history ambled on:
son Tut erased parental delusions
with an eye roll. He even dug
up the old man, re-buried
him and his new religion.
Why must every generation

think their folks are square?
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