in a Bass Pro Shop hat
and it stopped me in my tracks.
what a wild thing to witness
in Greenpoint, Brooklyn,
unless irony is afoot.
but I haven't sensed irony
since the summer of fear, 2008,
and that was because of hipsters like me.
all haunted by youth
that we were afraid to let go,
but pushing to be adults.
weird hobbies and all,
we marched into this life
like Arcade Fire and balcony blueberries mattered.
they don't,
but now that I am back,
I miss the irony.
a cassette swap in Willytowne,
a baby in a thrift store hat,
a beautiful girl covered in pancake tattoos.
being surprised by life
is something we should keep
from going extinct.