may our grams be insta-liked,
our fingers knuckle crack scrolling
scrolling our eyes seeing
everything and nothing, may
our texts be addressed promptly,
no three mean dots stuck between
I love you (or whatever)
and
I’ve already forgotten
where your birthmarks live, may
we find purpose
on a park bench
overlooking a city
we’ve barely seen
but someone told us
we should crowd like crickets, may
our headphones remain
untangled, looped through
our shirts or bras
a steady beat
a steady beat
a steady beat in our ears
the cadence for a march
we were wound up for
at birth by our mothers, may
we be ever grateful
for poetry that surrounds us,
like ocean—live open & #nofilter
may we learn
to drink salt water without
gasping and not resent laughter
from women on trains, may
our tweets be clever, may
our blogs be read, may
our love for social justice
be a loaf of bread, may
we lose our gluten allergies, may
we never drive cars again
and wear those shoes that make us
look like Roman prefects
and discover the perfect hashtag
(and use it only once), may
we discover radical self love
is the circus of our generation
without using the words
radical, self, or love, may
we find slow in our motion,
yearning for open windows we scrape
the frost off with our fingernails, may
we discover colors without name, may
we pause to have original thought
(just one)
may we avoid all manner
of what Monopoly taught us was evil, may
we grow bloated and happy
just like our parents
but without falling asleep.

***

Artist Statement:

What does it even mean to be a millennial? I think we’re still trying to figure out. In the meantime, we seem to have no end to the distractions that perpetually clutter our psyches. Maybe that’s why we’re still casting about. We care about things, of course. Too many things. Social justice. Cat videos. Literature, sometimes. Community, or whatever we think community is supposed to be. Nothing is neat. Nothing is obvious. And maybe that’s okay. I hope that’s okay. I hope we’ll be okay. Amen.

Alex Simand holds an MFA from Antioch University Los Angeles. He writes fiction, creative nonfiction, and poetry. His work has appeared in Red Fez, Mudseason Review, Five2One Magazine, Angel City Review, Drunk Monkeys, and others. Alex is the former Blog Editor for Lunch Ticket and past Editor of Creative Nonfiction and Diana Woods Memorial Prize. Find him online at www.alexsimand.com or on Twitter at @AlexSimand.