Wednesday, April 20, 2005

The Ironic Mustache of Wicker Park (A Poem)

I think I know how it started
Whilst shaving
Creative Facial Hair Games are over
The goatee must be gotten gone
But wait--
Wouldn't it be funny?
A Hitler 'stache? A Chaplin?
Why not leave the whole thing on?
Wouldn't that be funny?
What would people think?
They wouldn't know what to think
And that's how we'll fool them.

But what about the ladies?
Will they get it?
Do they want 1982 all over again?
All over them?
Perhaps they'll wonder, as the t-shirt advertises,
Are Mustache Rides really five cents?

And what about our history?
Our fathers have been wearing mustaches for decades if not centuries
Aren't we just becoming them?
Aren't we just becoming who we really are?
Grow that mustache young hipster
Defy convention by conforming to it
Be as punk as Selleck, as cool as Kotter
Be who you are. Be yourselves!

"Too much mustache in the monitor!" someone shouted to the bass player at the Hot Snakes show
How prescient was that? How right on?

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