Modernity; or Hipster Couture?

[sansenmage]

It has been many, many moons since I posted my own poetic incompetence. Here are two super-unrevised verses from my epic and pretentious ode to modern life:

Modernity; or Hipster Couture

I

Dear Miss Perry, your "teenage dream" with skintight jeans
Bothers me ad nauseam. With "wide load" hips like these
Muffin tops sprout on me at any size and rise--
Even with anorexia. I can never buy
Cheap clothes, made in China of course, that emulate
Your style due to my curséd genetic hip fate;
So what am I to do--sue my progenitors?
That would be financial suicide; I need them more
Than you to maintain my artistic lifestyle.
Anyway, I sent your CD to the trash pile
And purged your songs from my iTunes portfolio
Because I hate you now. Go back to your real roots:
Christian music. Oh no, the revealéd truth--
Sad hipster irony?

II

Today I saw the sad, sad sight of agéd hipsters
In their fixie peloton going down the demon
Descent. For traffic ahead, they could not bother
To break with e-mails on iPads to be checked again
At all speeds; someone may have re-tweeted their blog
Post on how "totally uncool Emo is" because
"It is like so three years ago!" As to their togs,
Pedaling in neon yellow flip flops is--and was--
Dangerous. So, they coasted into SUVs
Little damaged by road rage between "soccer moms;"
But rage arrived when dudes on fixies dented
Custom urban tanks. Slouching slackers fled the scene--
Barely. Balls and bats were hurled at the hep hipster throng
Oblivious to all but the fermented
New brew at the totally organic party.