Home » Poetry » Day 6 – Aging Hipster

Day 6 – Aging Hipster

The flexible, flower-print girlies traipse
through the back door
and he follows them out

in a shirt of his own design.

There’s never enough sleep for Netflix
and hopping fences,
every cent from making coffee
back into drinking coffee.

He’s a star around here for his wisdom
but I don’t hang around much
to believe it,
to hear his regrets.

He knows that I understand him
but I will not give him what he wants.

When he taps my shoulder I call him “Sir,”
when he compliments me I say “Lookin’ grey,”

and every time he wants me to notice him leave
I ask if he needs a ride home.


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