For one, street argot became tougher.
You had to distinguish between what you meant by calling someone a mother.
The Black Panther influence, no doubt, but a rejuvenation of the
language. Street fighting man. Butchery at My Lai.
House arrest for Lieutenant Calley so strangely appropriate for the times.
So middle class and a tribute to "doing one's own thing":
Rampant, militant individualism, the hallmarks of expression.
Sit-ins, love-ins, peace-ins. The Electric Acid Kool-Aid Test,
anyone? The sixties were the highwater meritocracy from the
foremost "me decade".
Getting right on target for the narcissism of the seventies.
Or so it was rumoured.
What's next in the social roller derby?
Cutbacks, retrenchments, accountability.
Even uglier, this new argot of the eighties.
Dash Into Realism: Escape Pad From The Sixties
Paul Cameron Brown
(1)
Poem topics: I love you, house, mother, peace, decade, target, social, doubt, class, language, black, expression, middle, love, street, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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