Look! Here come the Flower Children,
beads and braids and tie-dyed
feathers,
hippie happie demonstrators
marching against the world’s Darth
Vaders,
laughing and singing and loving each
other,
blithe go-fors for somebody’s alternate
kingdom,
marching, dancing, turn up the speakers,
into the rainbow, into the visions,
the sacred weed and the magic mushroom,
Shangri-La, Woodstock, Walden, Eden,
the compound ruled by the loving leader,
the sex and the sweats and the screams
of laughter,
and into the night of the trussed
pigslaughter,
the barren tears, the begging and
pleading,
the belly ripped open, a bloody melon,
wasting, wasting, all fall down
—Trust me, trust always, and only, the
young.
_____________________________________
Photo from http://inspirement.tumblr.com/post19730831916/
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