A Parade Of Friendly Hipsters [poem]
There’s a parade of friendly hipsters
Walking down the steps
Taking place in the procession
Of the bohos and the heps
Of the hippies and the beatniks
Of the zoots and plain old beats
And they step their steps quite lively
As they walk down these mean streets
Now some of them are barefoot
And some of them wear boots
And some of them wear long hair
And some are in zoot suits
And they’ve always been here
And they always call it home
Even though they come from elsewhere
To this city they will roam
This city calls them to her heart
And they take her in theirs
And they’ll never ever leave her
Except to climb heaven’s stairs
But what is this place called heaven
Compared to sunny L.A.?
This city cast of angels
Where the muses come to play
There’s a parade of friendly hipsters
Walking down the steps
And as to where they’re going
You can all just place your bets
© Buzz Dixon