Hipsters with sisters
What of the brothers with lobsters?
The mothers with prawns and shrimp BBQs?
What of the artsy fartsy fantasy banksy's
That fill up the treadmills in the gums for life
What of the lettuce fetishists
The cattle protectorists
What of brassica rubbing in the alchemist's allotments?
Give me a fashionista at Easter spring collection
But not summer in the wings of aerodrome convention
Give me necklaces at neap tide and bear hugs in Autumn
By big wall men who fill in gaps in the mortar
Supporting acts in Tarot card decks
Spun like lattices of gossamer spider webs
Not the main act, not the leading role
That takes class and control
Not my be sugared soul
Mary Poppin it on the dance floor
Around her handbag
Even if it was a glad rag
Where have all the hipsters awaiting hip ops gone
Long time in passing
Give me books I can delve in and dip my toes in
Reading like a bunting
A wag tail
I've been a dumb bumble bee dancing around strange flowers
Got hooked on a nectar
And locked up in towers
And it's been a mistake just to follow
Attraction
For that leads to dissatisfaction of soul
The farmers are nursing their night time herds
Weaning off mother's milk
It's been a diary of dairies
And I've not written a word in blood
But I've slaughtered most of the sacred cows
Around here
And now I'm an outcast of my own design
I'm just getting ready to cut my ties
For none of these people reflect my style
I'm more a man on a hill
seeing nothing but mirrors
for miles and miles
I don't like what I see
But I've been lost in a maze
A minotaur's minor tour
of buses of summer haze
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