It's a Really Obscure Poem, You Probably Haven'T Heard of It

Oh, you’re cool. Deck. With your battered copy of Naked Lunch tucked away in your thrift-store -satchel, it’s definitely a satchel- that holds your cigarettes, the ones you bummed last Wednesday, and the extra scarf you keep with you at all times just in case your neck gets cold, which it seems to often, even though its brother is always wrapped loosely around your neck. That iPod in your hand with the huge headphones -for better acoustics- is playing that band you like, the one with the synth player who can also play both the didgeridoo and keytar at the same time, but I don’t think that’s the reason that they only have five fans or that that’s why you like them. It’s okay, I won’t tell your friends that you pay your rent with a trust fund. -Isn’t that ironic?- I’ll keep your secret the way you keep quoting Kerouac, who you only know of because of high school English class. And no, I won’t tell them either that you hate the taste of coffee, and miss eating bacon, and actually think that tattoo of a Palahniuk quote -“Your heart is my piñata”- translated into Finnish is not as clever as it was the first time you tried cocaine. But don’t worry. I won’t call you a hipster. That way you don’t have to pretend to hate it.