Resurfaced

We’ve resurfaced,

We children of the gun,

Lost all these long years on the frontier,

Hardened, angry, calm.

Don’t feed us your Twinkies.

Don’t feed us your cornflakes.

We don’t want your bullshit.

We don’t want your end of the century.

We brought our own.

You see these women?

They hold the future in their arms.

You see these children?

They’ve come to claim their heritage.

We know yesterday.

It’s the pain in our bones.

We know today.

We’ve come to kill it.