"the aging hipster"
by Dan Leo
illustrations by rhoda penmarq, for penmarq studios™
I am the aging hipster,
and everyone despises me.
Yes, I’m just an aging hipster
and everyone’s finally wise to me.
It’s horrible to be old
when you peaked at twenty-five,
And I’ve no need to be told
that no one cares if I’m alive.
I only thank God for the internet
For Facebook and for Youtube.
I comment and chat all fucking day and yet
To these brats I’m just a boring old boob.
I’m thinking of making up a new Facebook account
and pretending that I’m young and cool again;
I’m tired of being called a superannuated cunt
By every callow smart-ass hooligan.
Don’t they know I once shook hands with Iggy,
and even shot up once with Basquiat?
And, yes, I even once got jiggly
with Patti Smith when she was drunk at
Max’s Kansas City.
So why do I feel so shitty
when I look in the mirror?
I’d even settle for some pity,
but the contempt could not be clearer
in the eyes of the young fops
in the bars and coffee shops;
to them I’m barely visible,
and if I am at all I’m risible.
I’m just an aging hipster
with my moth-eaten black beret.
I’m just an aging pathetic hipster.
And, I know, I should just go away.
(Published also in "feiuilleton 13".
1 comment:
Isn't everyone aging, except perhaps those who are dead? To quote an old, quasi rap group, digable planets, "We're all babies, man."
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