American Vandalism

My American Graffiti  
lacked a soph hop  
a burger shack  
shiny cars  
or sense of belonging  
 
ninety sixish,  
I'm thinking Wu Tang and dust blunts  
psych wards runaways and outcasts.  
Hadn't yet discovered art  
and the closest to communion  
we felt  
was when Ms.Molly  
good golly'd us up on  
electric tribal chant  
 
"down the way"  
was our rite of passage  
until beat up and robbed  
we became nearly adult initiated  
into family values  
and at last  
got high with the elders  
 
no quarterbacks  
cliques, malls or "in crowds"  
and no one's sold on normal no how  
but  
meaning and morality  
could have at least left  
a call back number.