Hipster Hipster Party

Poetry

By Martin Olson

You are hip. You are SO hip. You are meta-hip. You were hip before it was cool. You were hip before the first Hipster Party.
You go to the Hipster Squared Party. You drink a cup of coffee. You smoke a cigarette. You see a dirty hipster. She sneers at you, and calls you a hipster. You throw your PBR in her face. It gets all over her mustache.
You take pictures on a shitty disposable camera. You get them developed. You put them on Facebook, in an album titled “Uber beaucoup de Hipster Party”. Your friends ‘like’ them. You feel validated. You are shallow. You are SO shallow. You are meta-shallow. You were shallow before it was cool.
Or not. Whatever.

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