Country anthem, blues medallion,
banners of dance and punk and metal;
slap a label on your tribe
and see if it gets larger.
Eat your feelings, drink your anger,
parade collective sorrow;
buy the right athletic shoe,
outrace a dicey future.
Consume an offered talisman,
invoke a plastic idol;
you are not far from cavelight, friends.
Embrace it as you’re able.
Dark Matter 