Medical waste
and the spawned babies
of industrial parks
are starting to talk back.
It's not the terrible two's--
it's adolescent urges with
wet dreams and blood.
We thought they would sink
wrapped in flags forever
--Stars and Stripes--
but they are moaning
with headache, their
mouths say it's the
morning after.
We are just people.
We are only people
who didn't realize.
So now they are hormonal
--want to fuck--
want to hang out in poolhalls,
drive souped-up cars
and smoke crack.
They roam the oceans and deserts
like phosphorus knives,
flammable with rage
at our desertion,
riding the waves and hillocks
home
for a party of destruction.
Look out.
-Jane Eaton Hamilton from her collection "Body Rain" Brick Books 1991