meaningless distinctions in poetry

it is my generation’s remit
to figure out how to piss on
irony’s grave, but you know
in a kind of a loving way?
it made us feel so clever
it made us feel so smart
it made us feel so funny
even though it basically
destroyed everything that wasn’t already
being demolished by venture capitalists
ripping the very wires out of the walls
auctioning off the copper for scrap
everything they couldn’t sell off
irony dissolved all the rest
but, hey, we felt hilarious
back in the middle nineties
that counts for something
we must piss on its grave
tastefully

it is my generation’s remit
to admit generations are meaningless
you are not part of a mass of people
you are an individual
shaped far more by
your home-life
your family
your class economics
than the year you were born
what bands you gave your money to
what cartoons you watched
calling someone Gen X or Boomer
or Millennial or anything is just
a cop-out for people
who don’t want to admit
they’re not a drop in some great wave
they’re a person of overlapping contexts
like every other human that ever lived
you’re not special because of a calendar
and my generation is stuck with this
convincing everyone else it’s a fake thing
because everyone else has a good excuse
to keep up the charade
lucky us

and it is your generations remit
to embrace what we well-remade and
replace all of our stupid mistakes
just like every other generation
that’s always the job
that’s always gonna be the job
we don’t live long enough
to get everything right
ever
don’t blame Millennials or the Boomers
blame God for our pitiful expiration dates
if you’re gonna blame
anyone
fix that too
if possible