Adorkable

Hip City

www.twitter.com/nickorsini …I will fill your feed with my seed.

My hair is piled like a sandwich-

grease between flopping locks.

My beard stinks like breakfast…

all undergrowth and stray pipe-

cleaners spiraling from my face.

And she grabs me before I leave-

just some words out there in the

clean, weather-broken atmosphere.

A hipster buttons a Naval jacket

as he runs up the subway ramp.

A prostitute with a broken heel

returns from a night of real love…

for one of the parties involved.

Sometimes my flannel is stained.

Sometimes I don’t eat anything

before four in the afternoon.

I should return my parent’s calls

and the voicemails left for nothing

at all. We live on our own today.

The movie of how we behave.