Litkicks Message Board Archive

listening to jazz surrounded by hipsters

Posted to Action Poetry




Vein.
Lift.
Heavy.
Light.
Flow, pulse, beat.
10,000 hipsters singing songs to the night
in voices thick
with the smoke of cheap cigarettes.
Sometimes slurred with wine
they seek out the broken beauty
of dissolving daydreams.
Elegant love.
Lost illusions.
Chasing after the progression
of a lost generation is
no way to overthrow the
present or invade the future
singing anarchy or
equality or
liberty or
whatever it is
that is supposed to matter.
--violet9ish
PS--Still need help with 686 if possible.