Devinull Poetry Archive 80- A Rant Upon the Hipster Jail

A rant upon the hipster jail. 2003

Were all solipsists claiming the first eyes
As though none had ever seen to the show before the gig
But aint you learned theres always a hipper cat with glasses somewhere in the crowd
And usually its a hopeless task to argue matters over a metropolitan or can of Pabst
But we puddle dive in from twenty five to seventeen
It doesnt matter and each season will seem equal in the strengths of their facades
To the next Young Turks to puncture the alleyways and the indie film halls.

Were in races as worst as the older one were so apt to mock
Lost in a fog of quickly dispelled names and non sequiturs.
Connoisseurship is merely a sweeter name for regression
Like eccentric used for insanity
The truth is my mind transmutes the latest Interpol album into the newest he-man
Into the Charlie the unicorn into into the Gem and the Holograms.
Who am I trying to bludgeon with my tastes, my faves....
Whose panties am I trying to crawl in by these lines
Or the dime words I use or my shelves of fancy books
With all the authors names but oh so rarely read?

Im bored enough to roll my eyes
Yet dumb enough to soldier on.

Now Im old by default square
Yet your young eyes they dart nowhere
That doesnt seem a kiddie chorus or a wave of snark
So ditch your contempt that dog dont bark

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