In the beginning, in the wet. br When it began, in the soft br imploding space. br Demanding attention and reacting br like a silver vulture dying in the desert. br We heard screaming. br Dissident voices mangled by the br unhealthy lifestyle choices they manifested. br We screamed in return, our voices br as dissident as theirs. br 'Let us not conform! ' 'Let us not conform! ' br In this parent-less world, br where laughing seems archaic. br We learn only that perspective br is not innate behaviour. Instead br it is learned from endless cups of coffee br and dangling cirgarettes. br Smoke twirling like iconic symbols br of blood and faith. br When rock and roll still held br the power to motivate, br we listened, danced and exclaimed. br We jumped to every conclusion br and it was ours to do so. br Fled and returned, returned and fled. br Both were our emblems and we wore br them as proud badges of arrival. br Cold cup of egg salad still sitting br in the fridge. Warm taste of lighter fluid br bravely tinting our lips. br In the beginning, in the wet. br When pencils were sharp and pens br were obsolete. When spelling mattered br and slang was ignored. We pickled like br over-ripe vinegar in a bottle br left behind after a move. br The ransom was demanded and so br we paid it. Rising with the choirs br we heard in Mass. br 'Let us not conform! ' 'Let us not conform! ' br Never let the dollars and cents be br the supplier of existence. br We live, you see. br We are not dead.br br Chris G.