The world is so strange and beautiful now.
Something has happened to it.
An eerie light flicks and glows in the gloom
like a searchlight on the horizon in a Blade Runner Neuromancer smog.
Bands are trying to pretend
the Gulf Wars and 9/11 and Iraq
never happened.
The 18-year-old rock singer at the next desk says
he wants to be born in the 60s.
I think to say,
Well, you’re only as old
as the person you feel,
and I was born in 1965
But I don’t, because
he also talks about his girlfriend
and because
he knows nothing about anything
and he’d be a damn poor substitute for…
(Jimi fucking Hendrix)
But he does like my clothes.
See what I mean?
That eerie light.