America,
I am not an anarchist, an atheist, or agnostic
I am not anything so easily latched onto in a fit of resentful rebellion.
I am not only a cynic
Though it makes up most of me lately.
I’m hardly depressed, repressed, oppressed, and don’t really seek “progress.”
I am not a Democrat, a Republican, and definitely not Libertarian
I am not without positions, and take them seriously, butI am not so incensed about them
to feel the need to go further than the arguments in my own head.
America,
I am of a demographic that supposedly rules you, “Young white male, ages 18-35”
According to newspapers and television
Though I’ve never really felt that important.
I am not without empathy though. I just feel less secure in airing comments,
confident I’ll come off as condescending.
I have learned of my forebears’ past from your history books, but
I am not one to be shackled by the inherited guilt of a time I can’t change
I am prone to thinking about it though, when I lie in bed alone at night, and
I like to contemplate the phrase, “starting at rock bottom.”
America,
I am average it feels,
Neither rich nor poor, and somewhere along the border of scholarly and competent.
I am not broken, battered, or even bruised by my parents or my childhood
Despite the late night specials’ insistence.
I am not at odds with family or friends,
Or committed wholeheartedly to some deep and important cause.
I am not well known, and don’t appear on television except in crowds.
I am average, I am not general, I am specific
Just like you.
