Thought I'd share the title poem from this collection which is of course one of my favorites
No Longer Dressed in Black
They no longer dress in black,
they’ve become accountants,
clerks, engineers and thieves.
Cobain is dead and so is Lennon
that mop-top leader of revolutions.
Now middle-American angst
replaces the illusion, replaces the
heroes pushed beyond death, the
black that waits for us all.
Only the Goths are left and they
never bought into it anyway, their
blackness worn only on their sleeves,
insulation from society.
They used to wear black, these clerks,
thieves, accountants; clinging to it,
as if to hope, but knowing there was no
challenge, no future, no reason to believe.
They were pulled inexorably
into society, depressed enough
to go along, depressed enough
to suck the blackness into their bodies
and smile as they hand you your change.
.