Millennium Brats Poem by Kevin Patrick

“Give me luxury, for the price of liberty”
Declares a generation raised in vain idolatry
And sculptured on silicon with limitless recourse
Whilst reclining on the Triclinium of idle awards
That separates the spirit from the hedonistic ghost
Sporting Smartphones and I-pads and the latest cuisine
For Shop hopping friars of the latest fashion scene
Ours is the age of generation me



Born Bold and confident with Patrick Batemans genes
There’s nothing in our path that will keep us from being free
Or down beating us with responsibility
until pied piper clears us for the cheque
But for now
Hail texting;
Toiled selfies;
And inconsequential pleasures
Hopscotching Facebook, Instagram and trite biting twitter
As the axis of nearsighted pride smoking enlightenment
Rejoices in the cult of celebratory status
There’s more than enough likes for yourself
To fulfill the cement of Darwin’s disaster


For a hippies vision of yuppies wealth
Is the twisted fusion of millennial pup

Working hard for hardly working
Is our Motto of the Enron Children
Vain, Pompous, self-riotous and dogmatically liberal
We are the chattel to aid Steve Jobs pimple
Restless for conquest and appraisal at breakfast
We must thank ourselves for our own genesis


Now old dogs lament for what the young once ignore
What Arrogance and insolence breed danger at the door
For the cult of youth culture is a ticket to the abyss
A YouTube pornographer and self-seeking Cyst

Pray not from above
but the god you’ve become
Running round the idle ground
of generation;
“Me”

Our is the age of the pure obscene
millennium