Growl by Gerard Allen Van der Ginsberg For Karl Rove Solomon I SAW the second-best minds of my not-so-Great Generation destroyed by Bush Derangement Syndrome, pasty, paunchy, tenured, unelectable, and not looking too sharp naked, bullshitting themselves through the African-American streets at cocktail hour looking for a Prozac refill, aging hair-plugged hipsters burning for their ancient political connection to the White House through the machinations of moonbats, who warred on poverty and Halliburton's Wal-Mart and bulbous-eyed and still high from some bad acid in 1968 set up no-smoking zones on tobacco farms in the unnatural darkness of Darwinistic delusions floating...