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.