People My Age Are Running the World

March 5 2012

I imagine at some point

I will feel all grown up.

Certainly, I will get old

and look the part,

which is to say

invisible.

A kid

insecure, and immature

in someone else’s body.

Most likely

this was not a question

considered by my parents,

when children followed marriage

and what was expected

of man and wife

easily went unsaid.

Because when money was tight

and the day-to-day a flood,

treading water

took the place of philosophy.

No time for solipsists

indulging 
in existential angst,

paralyzed

by introspection.

Of course, they had a war

to make them tough,

a depression

in which to grow up,

imprinting lessons

of thrift, and loss.

So was it peace and prosperity

that made us soft?

Are we the centre of attention

long after

the admiring gaze has gone?

Like them, we carve a notch

for rites of passage,

the milestones

of house, and spouse

and child.

But feel like impostors,

bad actors

who will eventually be caught

and shamed.

Which would be OK

if it weren’t that people my age

were running the world,

and it’s so clear to see

should have never been 
in charge.

Naked emperors

in their finery,

in mortal fear

of discovery,

just like me.

So I will continue to feel inadequate

while my parents simply got on with it,

and their parents

re-invented the world.

As we 
let our ennui, and greed

tear it down,

exhaust its wealth, and beauty.

Adolescents

never thinking ahead,

'til inertia

carries us over the edge.

When will we feel like grown-ups

who think for ourselves?

Manifestly believe

in our virtue?