Life as a Hipster

Teeming with the scent of sunblock

Strolling down 6th with lips ever so slightly open

Sporting hot pink sunglasses in January

Headphones blare at eardrums

And make the rest of life a montage

About her obscurity

Like the opening credits of a film

A thin, pretty-faced 20-something

With streaked movie star hair

Struts to the cupcakery and confidently orders

An agave mocha cream cupcake for breakfast

She wear a shirt that states in bold

"Believe in Something"

The credits roll the supporting actors

As she exits the bakery

And checks her phone for Facebook updates

That night she had an epiphany

She found it ironic that at her boyfriend's party

As Justice boomed from the stereo

And as she wore an Indian headdress

And as she gave tongue to the girl

With glossy lips, a fro and a tight checkered skirt

All she thought about was the vague mythology

Told to her by her parents

Of who she was as a little girl

She thought about Post-Modernism

And Vonnegut

So this morning as she ate her cupcake

Off of her boyfriends chest

And as Gaga still played in her ears

The credits rolled the producers

The "music by" and "casting by"

She was convinced she's never had freewill