the sedation of yet another generation

Even Tony Manero cured his "Saturday Night Fever"
Transcended from years of Broadway scraps
Skin-tight polyester moving to Frank Stallone
"Staying Alive" on Ramen Pride noodles
To driver's seat of a Ford Expedition
Steering wheel partially covered
by an ever-expanding "Five Guys" gut

Strobe fades into night-ending house lights
Last stragglers pour through the doors
Streets fill with them and their erstwhile companions
Sweaty bodies aching, wet for collision
Lurching in unison behind subway pylons
Even these twisted urchins of the
painted streets will
Find themselves bound in corporate matrimony
Married to debt and dysfunction, breeding
from boredom, discussing deductibles
burying their pill-soaked debaucherous delusions
their beat-driven hallucinations
sweaty, libidinous, impulse driven discretions
somewhere in the back nine
thoughts of revolution long ago abandoned
lost in the search
in the art of making an eagle