When I was growing up, artists I knew wanted
to be as good as Frank Frazetta, or better.
And musicians I knew wanted to be as good
as the Jefferson Airplane, or maybe better.
A writer—that is, me—wanted to be as good
as Barry Malzberg. I thought I could be better.
Who in the current world does anybody want
to be better than, or even just as good as?
Is anybody good at anything today,
or is everybody today just cashing in
on their lottery-like fifteen minutes of fame?
Starting from Frazetta, the Airplane and Malzberg
the world of yesterday transformed into today,
cool phones that fry our brains, zombie games and “The Hills.”
When dawn comes to the Novus Ordo Seclorum,
when this today transforms into that tomorrow,
will Time publish a cover asking, IS GOOD DEAD?
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Frank Frazetta
Jefferson Airplane
Barry Malzberg
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