Hipster Consumerism, a poem
Hipster Consumerism
“I don’t care a thing about fashion.”
Then why does your Dijon mustard beanie match
the thinnest thread in your fifty-dollar, made-to-look-vintage
flannel from the Buckle—in season,…….not on sale?
Don’t tell me your cuffed capri jeans are comfortable.
You say you play every instrument, but you don’t know more
than a chord or two.…….Your voice is every cliché,
but still they worship you.…….They buy into you.
They wear your name on a T-shirt.
You have no enemies but one: the girl who doesn’t buy it.
I see the way you look at her,…….with your seaweed
green eyes, given by God to ungrateful you who hides them behind…….big, thick
Harry Potter glasses you don’t even have a prescription for.
You barely even speak to her. You take the cigarette
from behind your ear. “It’s organic.” “It’s American.” “It’s tar-free. “It’s lite.”
And blow smoke into her face,…….like cloudy, foggy spittle.
She is quiet, a non-smoker, goody-two-shoes. She dresses in dresses
and hats that are actually in style.…….She clashes
with the hard ass, James Dean vibe you swear you’re not going for.
You almost lose your cool by letting her know this:
“I’m not who you think I am.”
She says,…….“Yes you are.”
January 2, 2012
2 responses to Hipster Consumerism, a poem
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I have to say, the whole idea of this poem is to point out how ungrateful and narcissistic hipsters are, and I agree that many are, but this poem kind of backfires; it makes you look like you think you’re, or who ever this “girl” is (probably you) better than hipsters, which in turn is ironic. A big part of being hipster is thinking that you’re better than everyone and that no one can touch your state of intelligence. That’s kind of what you are acting like in this poem. I’m not trying to sound like a jerk by adding this information, I just think you should know or something. I don’t really know what I’m trying to prove.