I saw the best minds of my generation,
contemplating Nirvana in Palo Alto, CA.

Who driving five-speed red coupe BMW down suburban streets,
craved angry fix of carrot juice and latte.

Hip-hop shysters of the Eternal Strip Mall.

Who seeking redemption from daily turmoil,
found penance in calisthenic pilgrimage to Gold's Gym.

Who then meeting Veronica Incarnate [Web designer]
from Sausolito - engaged, married and procreated.

Who variable-rate mortgaged and over-leveraged,
meditated under the bodhi tree of a three bedroom bungalow.

I saw the best minds of my generation,
contemplating suicide in the parking lots of JC Penney.

Who stock-optioned and 401K'd at a software company,
developed the Web Ergonomic Interactive Real-Time
Desktop publisher [WEIRD].

Who chanting mantras of Microchips and Mips
and Dibs and Bus burst rates and Search engines
and ISO and IP and Xerox Parc
found that Clapton was God.

Who then later, after burn-out and spiritual dissipation,
ventured pilgrimage to the Bodhisattva monastery of
Sandals - Montego Bay.

And, after 7 Day spiritual rebirth,
returned to Palo Alto for Beta Test.

I saw the best minds of my generation,
meditating the reincarnation and rebirth of the Dow.

Drugstore terrorists of many suburban Guerilla campaigns.

Who Prozac-numb and strung out on binary incarnation of Kama Sutra,
worshipped the golden Dharma Bull in the digital temple.

Who naked in the limb of a 3 A.M. cocaine binge,
ran naked through the streets of Greenwich babbling
"FU#$ and SH@* and PI&$ and FU#@ !".

Who beholden to the four noble truths of buy low, sell high,
dollar cost averaging and margin call -
made illicit calls to women in the Bronx who charged
by the minute billed .

I saw the best minds of my generation,
perfecting the vector algorithms of Graphical User Interface.

Who HBO'd and Cinemaxed in their door-manned condominiums,
made obscene proposals to strange ladies at http://www.blondes.com.
Then later recanted when found out in the monthly confessions
of their credit card bills.

Who self-assured and arrogant, recanted Kiergegaard
and Che Guevera in the HOV lanes of their morning commute.

I saw the best minds of my generation,
devising the mergers and acquisitions of multiple marital unions.

Zoot-suited gangster of the Franchise Convention.

Who home-paged, e-mailed, buddy-listed and cell-phoned,
tremored in the lawns of their Valium withdrawl.

Who on the anniversary of their marriages,
got stuck in the Cash-only line of Home Depot behind
some fat women from Stamford yelling
"Damn my card doesn't work !".