Roger Patulny
Flatpack Hipster
One long night, confined,
I ordered a hipster online.
When he arrived,
I had a quite a time assembling him.
There was no Allen key,
and the instructions were all ticks and crosses
and pictures of sexless men scratching their heads.
So, I took a guess
and glued his beard before I realized
he was back to front and upside down;
and then he wouldn’t stop talking.
I sent him, bearded, babbling
mustardccinos and babyccinos,
to the local café-bar,
but they snickered into handlebars,
and mullets
that there were no more
jobbyccinos.
But, well designed if poorly made,
my flattie hipster
You Tubed how
if inverted, rotated,
and converted
he might just be retained,
and now he makes the tea
down there, by the bay,
and babbles about fair trade winds
while I drink gin,
self-isolate,
and keep on scrolling
through the catalogue.
—Submitted on 06/07/2020
Roger Patulny‘s poems have appeared in Cordite, InDaily, Dwell Time, The Rye Whisky Review, and other journals.
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