again, i feel the drop
hearing these he.she.its spit
from stage to mic to itunes
to ipod to my head
i hear the spit
and i sink
i drop
i turn away
and bare fluorescent lights flick on
drowning out the mood-light in my head
the harsh light reveals harsh reality
that these kids are not me
that they may like to hear the spit
and the bombastic transparencies
hurled out like something brave
and audacious
as they stand before their like-minded siblings
and permute like-minded sententiousness
good for them!
for them!
not for me.
i must be getting old
because i really have heard it before
even the same structure
the same contrived hipster voices
the funky soulful whatever
contrived.
just young people mating
sending out their whale songs
good for them!
that's cool
they're cool
i'm not.
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