My belated entry to the hippy thing.

Hip hip hooray

My teenage hips could hold
The hipsters in stripes bold,
My feet could cope to the roots
With the narrowest Chelsea boots,
My neck could gently breathe
As I wrestled with a raglan sleeve,
My hair could stand up for itself,
Such was the state of my health,
But I worried about the Bomb,
And the girl who had more aplomb,
And I mimed to Leonard Cohen
In bedsits with rentals owing,
And admired the latest mini
Worn by superior ladies skinny,
And I went to San Francisco
By a turntable in a disco,
And I spoke to my fellow man
As only a modern poet can,
With meters of peculiar feet
Set in the strongest concrete.
And now forty years on
With nearly everything gone,
I look back and remember
How the fire became an ember...

... but I still mime to Leonard Cohen.

Chris Fernie, 2006

Poetry by Chris Fernie
Read 419 times
Written on 2006-10-01 at 18:38

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Rob Graber
Great nostalgia, superb final couplet!