They seemed so cool
with their ragged clothing
artfully draped on anemic shoulders,
disaffected expressions even in the face of joy.
They may have been thinking of how good
it was back in the day, basking in sun
and boiling like lobsters – in a sexy way
and how with enough Aquanet and eyeliner,
they ruled a little part of the world
30 years ago.
Or they may have been wondering
what Camus meant by ‘I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world…’
They may have just been as blank as they looked.
I envied their lack of irony,
looking like refugees from a Pat Benatar video
while stuffing themselves
into their daughters’ pants, heralding the fall
of grace in a world that valued artifice over art.
I loathed them because now
I had that song stuck in my head,
complete with choreography.