The Only Word Our Generation Seems To Know.

I can feel them watching.
“Magnets on the dance floor.”
We are a storm.

Wearing plaid and pleather.
He wears glasses and a rainbow bowtie.
They don’t know what to call us.
So they have to call us something.
The only word our generation seems to know.

I slept through breakfast.
I slept through lunch.
I slept through a walk to pick up his freshly developed film.

Want to meet at that secret chinesse place in the basement?
I am late like usual.

“Hipsters” I hear them say.
I hear them whisper, and yell and groan.

4 thoughts on “The Only Word Our Generation Seems To Know.

  1. I love this kind of “stream of consciousness” poem. I try it a lot, but don’t often pull it off. Well done!

  2. Pingback: So I’ve been writing a lot of poetry lately. | Good luck with Madeleine.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s