I walk by and watch
the punk rock die.
They sold it off
for ten percent on the dime.

There's music in th air,
and the doings of the hair
and the rags on the racks
seem to smack of rebel flack.

But the decades of cedar musk
aren't there no more,
no these aren't old--
they've canned mothballs.

They just look ridiculous.
Purple-quirky-cowboys
ask me if I need help;
"Yes, get me off of this planet."

07/03/2008

Author's Note: I feel like it might could be longer.

Posted on 07/03/2008
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