It’s not about who
predicted it (because
no one did), it’s
about who was
prepared for it (not
who wasn’t),
and that is:

the doom ’n gloomers,
           the poets,
the singers ’n seers,
the downtrodden ’n
           forgotten,
the manic ’n the depressive,
           the anti-socialites ’n
contra-non-believers—

who never forgot
that things were already
fucked—we’ve been
fleeced from the jump,
the genesis founded
upon unbounded
generational swindling;
the cornerstone since
time immemorial—(in
rough shape, battered ’n
bruised beyond
recognition—as if there
ever was a point of
reference anyhow)
and that they had to get
worse, before they
had the slim, shimmery
silver shot
           of getting better.