New-Age Yuppie Bullshit is Ruining My Favorite Things

In the place where we sleepwalked,
there are monks
waiting to prophesy something grand.

They sit still as a legend,
moving treelike only when it is time
to put a cigarette to their lips.

The embers scatter everywhere,
threaten to start wildfires
and then recede, very quietly,
while the monks, exhaling angrily,
watch the cars on the turnabout
for signs of something disastrous.

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One thought on “New-Age Yuppie Bullshit is Ruining My Favorite Things

  1. “moving treelike” is one amazing description. This poem reminds me of parts of Portland Oregon that are being renovated, and the gentrification seems to sterilize life.

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