DEAREST HIPSTERS

please quit remarking on the irony that christmas, a religious holiday dedicated to the birth of a man who was adamantly against materialism, has ironically become a celebration of commercialism

and for those of you hipsters who have fallen deeper into the trap, please stop noting that the acknowledgement of this is so outdated, been there done that

dearest hipsters
please acknowledge that the plaid shirts you wear, form-fitting, neatly pressed with a bow tie are essentially the afterbirth of grunge, the lumberjackian persona has been done

dearest hipsters
please note that tagging yourself at city o city on instagram with a clever sepia picture at 11:30 on a friday night does not only provide a sufficient mating call to potential lovers but also provides a verifiable location for you should your enemy hipsters decide to crash your party for that backhanded comment you made about the shins’ second album

dearest hipsters
what the hell do you do?
drink coffee
ironically
smoke american spirits
ironically
talk about the bands you used to like
before they became too hip
while in your heart of hearts
you still hold a vinyl copy of i’m wide awake, it’s morning

dearest hipsters
let’s not dance to joy division
let’s not trek to the hipster meccas
of san fransisco
portlandia
let’s not drink our own boredom
out of a coffee cup that says
“this is a coffee cup” on the side

dearest hipsters
your book cases are full
and the spines of the books are pristinely
not bent

dearest hipsters
invite your gay friends to your party
as long as they are your cool gay friends

dearest hipsters
occupy starbucks
occupy whole foods
occupy illegal pete’s
occupy the spaces that are easiest to occupy
and already filled

continue to ignore the rapist plains of kansas
continue to ignore the shotgun shells of texas

continue to ignore that one place outside of america
that you forgot existed
until you wanted a statue of the buddha
to set on your turntable beside the underwood typewriter

continue to ignore the misogynistic kitchens of montana
continue to ignore the homophobic roar of laramie, wyoming

continue to ignore that one place outside of america
that you forgot existed
until you decided you and your friends
needed to know how it feels
to trip balls in bangladesh

dearest hipsters
thank god you’ve come along
to show us how identities based on pop culture
are the enemy of progression
that the goal is to express your individuality
with a slightly worn pair of oliver peoples from buffalo exchange
and a shirt from urban outfitters
that you spent thirty dollars on
to proclaim loudly
that you like the cheap beer

i see you at leela’s
dancing up to the counter
to order a PBR
and the hummus platter
but i can see you now
in your apartment of expensive recycled furniture
at two in the morning
eating two mcdoubles
and drinking a stella artois

dearest hipsters
before there were hippies there were hipsters
there was the beat generation
and sadly there were bongo drums involved
but there were ideas involved as well
and though i must acknowledge
that we do have a tendency
out of necessity
to rehash the same ideas again and again
like we just keep sleeping with culture again
in hopes that this one isn’t a miscarriage
i just ask
that maybe you take a second to identify
that you don’t have to got to sputnik
you don’t have to go to denver cruisers
on your fixie
with your handlebar mustache
and you don’t have to take the opportunity
to do what you truly want to do
and use it
to do what everyone else is doing

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2012

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SOCRATES BEAT

i like having my arms tug-o-warred between nazi germany and hippie utopia
i like playing pin the tail on the next president of the united states of america
every day colorado is a different shade, a different mood a different temperature so i must mimic her dance steps in the dark
i like considering the entire menu because the moment i order the same i always do – i feel vindicated and why is the waitress staring at me?
from henceforth when people ask me my political views i will answer “yes”
from henceforth when people ask me my religious views i will tell them i subscribe to the church of Allah, Buddha, Jesus, Ganesh, Thor, Zeus and the flying spaghetti monster sitting on a cloud having a religious debate
i want to be a child again – when my favorite ninja turtle was ‘all of them’ – and that was okay
i will stop ending my sentences with periods and begin to end them with question marks?
because i know, and everyone can agree on the fact that, i don’t know everything and you don’t know everything and the guys on t.v. with podiums for legs don’t know everything but collectively we can get a lot closer
screw their very important person tea party – we are all the united nations
we are truthseekers and truthspeakers and truth is the mental atomic bomb i hold most dearly
the freedom of truth, the beauty of truth, the love of truth, and god, do i love her
truth is my lady, she’s never wrong but she’s a good listener, but she loves to argue, but we never go to bed angry
and neither should the rest of us, unless we need to
we need to document the world we want
we need to break down our neighbor’s door with a giant cup of sugar
let us be open doors and patient ears – not wind-up chattering teeth talking to ear plugs

i like having my arms tug-o-warred between nazi germany and hippie utopia
and i like earth better than heaven, because there’s more books to be read and written on the subject
we are still rebuilding the tower of babel and they will never let us finish

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2012