They call us the “MeMeMe” generation
(like we invented narcissism).
Critics inform me that I am
self obsessed, passive, and impatient–
eaten up by consumerism
as much as I am defined by it.
They call me dead from the neck up,
disillusioned of the beauties I,
apparently,
take for granted.
But I have never felt so much alive,
and the world could not look more beautiful
than I am trying to make it.
So if it’s selfish for me to want more for myself
than the legacy of poverty and depression–
of social unrest–
my parents left for me,
then hang me up for the world to see,
give me my tar and my feathers.
Give me my crown,
and call me Greed.