Hipster season was in full swing
With the downtown streets ringing with their calls
"Oh, I was into that before it was so popular"
And a whole lot of
"I know, right? It is just so goddamned authentic!"
With that cry
They summon one another to the area
Hipster whalesongs echoing off the buildings
A haunting sound for every girl and boy
But irresistable to others just like them
And so they came
With their hair pinned down
Under a force of a thousand hippos
Rigid in place
Both with beard and on top of the head
Whether running, walking, or wrestling about
Those magnificent coifs didn't move a millimeter out of order
Which was when the trouble really started
As Hipster #1 entered stage left
Crossing paths with a floating plastic bag from the local mini-mart
Dancing upon the wind in that lovely way that they do
Usually until they end up in the ocean
To migrate to that mythical garbage patch in the Pacific
Or eaten by a misguided leatherback turtle
Sucked into its horror show maw of a thousand angled teeth
Having been mistaken for an errant jellyfish
Though clearly this particular plastic bag did not share that destiny at all
And was promptly impaled upon the spiked end of Hipster #1's perfect hair do
Plastering itself awkwardly against his scalp
Half obscuring the staggeringly magnificent beard and mustache show going on down there
All without the cognitave notice of said Hipster #1
Being as he was
Much too busy arguing with a passerby about the quality of a certain cup of coffee
The recycled content of the cup that held it
And the state of the other person's fingernails
Bored of that discussion before it was concluded
Hipster #1 turned abruptly away and began walking again
Plastered plastic bag joined by a ring of keys
Skewered out of the hand of a Russian land lady
Who had just now been so unfortunate as to be unhip directly in the path of this hip person
Bag wiggling in the breeze
Keys jingling with every step and head sway
Both clinging like velcro to Hipster #1's head
Without warning Hipster #1 turned into a corner bar
The one that had been run down and dingy since 1958
Now a run down and dingy hipster hangout with ironic beer on tap
At least until all the uncool people discover it
But that hasn't happened yet
So he orders up a canned Pabst Blue Ribbon beer
Popping the old school pull tab and dropping it into the can
Because that's what a man does
Damn the risk of ingesting sharp metal things
Downing the fermented mess in one tough man draught
Then daintily dabbing at waxed mustache with a cloth handkercheif
Carefully folded back up for the back pocket of his jeans
The empty can of Pabst got impaled upon his hair
To be displayed along with the plastic bag, purloined silver keys, and impeccable hair product use
Just the start of an offering to the Hipster King of Kornhoe, Kansas
The coolest of the uncool
The hippest of the ironically hip
The so old that it has gone from cool to uncool and back to cool again clock tower rang once
Marking one hour past noon
And four more hours to gather all the hip and secretly better than you things
For careful mounting upon that perfect dome of hair
Aha!
A used bookstore
Hipster #1 heads straight over to it
Thinking that there just may be the most appropriately worn paperback edition to add
"Of Mice and Men" is cool, right?
You nod in absent minded answer
As if he is talking directly to you
"Well fuck, I'll have to think of another title, since you've ruined it now"
He sulks
Walking between the stacks of musty basement smelling books
Because if you like it
Then there is no way that he can too
With the downtown streets ringing with their calls
"Oh, I was into that before it was so popular"
And a whole lot of
"I know, right? It is just so goddamned authentic!"
With that cry
They summon one another to the area
Hipster whalesongs echoing off the buildings
A haunting sound for every girl and boy
But irresistable to others just like them
And so they came
With their hair pinned down
Under a force of a thousand hippos
Rigid in place
Both with beard and on top of the head
Whether running, walking, or wrestling about
Those magnificent coifs didn't move a millimeter out of order
Which was when the trouble really started
As Hipster #1 entered stage left
Crossing paths with a floating plastic bag from the local mini-mart
Dancing upon the wind in that lovely way that they do
Usually until they end up in the ocean
To migrate to that mythical garbage patch in the Pacific
Or eaten by a misguided leatherback turtle
Sucked into its horror show maw of a thousand angled teeth
Having been mistaken for an errant jellyfish
Though clearly this particular plastic bag did not share that destiny at all
And was promptly impaled upon the spiked end of Hipster #1's perfect hair do
Plastering itself awkwardly against his scalp
Half obscuring the staggeringly magnificent beard and mustache show going on down there
All without the cognitave notice of said Hipster #1
Being as he was
Much too busy arguing with a passerby about the quality of a certain cup of coffee
The recycled content of the cup that held it
And the state of the other person's fingernails
Bored of that discussion before it was concluded
Hipster #1 turned abruptly away and began walking again
Plastered plastic bag joined by a ring of keys
Skewered out of the hand of a Russian land lady
Who had just now been so unfortunate as to be unhip directly in the path of this hip person
Bag wiggling in the breeze
Keys jingling with every step and head sway
Both clinging like velcro to Hipster #1's head
Without warning Hipster #1 turned into a corner bar
The one that had been run down and dingy since 1958
Now a run down and dingy hipster hangout with ironic beer on tap
At least until all the uncool people discover it
But that hasn't happened yet
So he orders up a canned Pabst Blue Ribbon beer
Popping the old school pull tab and dropping it into the can
Because that's what a man does
Damn the risk of ingesting sharp metal things
Downing the fermented mess in one tough man draught
Then daintily dabbing at waxed mustache with a cloth handkercheif
Carefully folded back up for the back pocket of his jeans
The empty can of Pabst got impaled upon his hair
To be displayed along with the plastic bag, purloined silver keys, and impeccable hair product use
Just the start of an offering to the Hipster King of Kornhoe, Kansas
The coolest of the uncool
The hippest of the ironically hip
The so old that it has gone from cool to uncool and back to cool again clock tower rang once
Marking one hour past noon
And four more hours to gather all the hip and secretly better than you things
For careful mounting upon that perfect dome of hair
Aha!
A used bookstore
Hipster #1 heads straight over to it
Thinking that there just may be the most appropriately worn paperback edition to add
"Of Mice and Men" is cool, right?
You nod in absent minded answer
As if he is talking directly to you
"Well fuck, I'll have to think of another title, since you've ruined it now"
He sulks
Walking between the stacks of musty basement smelling books
Because if you like it
Then there is no way that he can too
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