“So, what does teen spirit smell like, anyways?” – by Katharine Weinmann

In my day, pot and patchouli perfumed bedrooms and back seats.
Sandalwood incense bought by donation from dubious Hare Krishna monks
chanting on the corner. Black coffee and cigarette breath covered up
with Juicy Fruit gum. First forays into staking our claim, into saying,
“This is me and I’m not you. So, fuck you and your senseless war.”

Now, high-end fragrances compete with hybrid cannabis. Slow sipped
cappuccinos in smoke-free cafes, the company for computers purring,
fingers tapping. Still a buzz bought with beer, but more pot vaped than toked.
Still the psyche’s need to draw the line, make the point, protest, rage and fight for rights.
“Fuck you, your endless wars. Our earth and climate going to hell.”

Barely held back, their life force surges, swallowed fear and fury
fueled sweat as grief grinds down and trauma tears through fabric
shredding family, self, and city.

Mental illness suffers as relentless revenge. Opioid overdoses the price for its relief.

The grunge’s sardonic anthem still a generation’s howl of anguish.

Writing poetry and contemplative creative non-fiction, Katharine shares the beauty in her imperfect, sometimes broken, mostly well lived and much loved life in her blog, A Wabi Sabi Life. Published in several global and national online sites, EPL’s Capital City Press Anthology Volume 2 (2022), and the music-inspired anthology, Off Topic Publishing’s Wayward & Upward (2022), Katharine is co-editor of Sage-ing: The Journal of Creative Aging.

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