D+A convo

You Vegans, you Hipsters, you Rebels, you Punks. (a poem)
by darryl jonathon


Friday, February 12, 2010 at 12:06am


I finally found you,
You artsy fuckers.
You vegans, you hipsters , you rebels, you punks.
I swear I've been up and down this side of Sunset Boulevard countless times only to find the likes and the kinds that don't speak like i do.
The types of people I dread to serve that morning cup of coffee to....

But here you are,
You vegans, you hipsters, you rebels, you punks.
Here we all are cramped in this tiny room.
We stand and listen to some generic band all fighting for our own little piece of bohemia.
You claim to be cultured, but I'm just trying to stake my claim...
I have my jacket zipped all the way up as if to try and conceal my identity,
But it's much too stuffy in here for that.

The truth is... I'm not one of you,
You vegans, you hipsters, you rebels, you punks.
You seem to get it, get it all deeper than I do.
You write better music than I do.
You make better art than I do.
You create more substantially.
This part of town reminds me too much of being seventeen again.
Standing in this room is like visiting this state of mind I'll always long to belong but never actually fit into.
It's fucking stifling.

You smell like an all natural food store,
You vegans, you hipsters, you rebels, you punks.
The kinds of places that keep you regular.
I had a big mac and fries before I got here and I swear they can smell it on me....


lady basco responds:

"Standing in this room is like visiting this state of mind I'll always long to belong but never actually fit into."
... and that, my dear nephew, is why we all belong.
right there.
because we seize to belong.
all us vegans, hipsters, rebels and punks.... See More
one ear.
pacemakers.
abandoned.
and broken.

each one of us.
we just got different ways of singing that song.
but it's all the same song.
the same message.
just masked under a different variation of words and rhythms.
different chords and isms.

we're all sidewalks with cement hearts.
sometimes we're walked on.
sometimes we're danced upon.
and if we're lucky.
every once and awhile the streetlamp burns just for our little strip of way.

but for the most part.
we're all in the dark.
and while we're there, if we're clever enough,
we'll scratch something down.
document something good.
so that when it's our turn to shine,
like the pavement beside us does so well,
up and down that side of sunset blvd,
we will glitter.
our hearts will melt.
just for that light.

and just beyond us there will be some kid.
scratching something down.
talking about how he doesn't belong.

see love?
we all be part of each other.
not belonging unites us.
it always has :)



... oh and...
big macs and fries.

LOVE.