When I saw a girl with crazy hair
and scuffed-up Doc Martens
stopping traffic as she walked quickly
across the busy boulevard,
I like to think that she was on a
mission to her best friend’s house,
or maybe meeting her bestie at
a cafe, where they will work on
writing lyrics for their first song,
for their first punk album,
with a band that doesn’t exist yet.
And, maybe the reason why she
looks wildly distracted is because
she woke up humming a peculiar
beat and she’s preoccupied,
humming as she strolls past the
mid-day suits, trying not to forget
how it went.
I like to think that an old Blondie
song somehow popped up on her
playlist a few weeks ago and
she couldn’t get it out of her head,
playing it over and over until she
took her hard-earned money and
bought the vinyl album from a
used record store in town.
I like to think that her tribe gets
pissed off at ignorance and the
hate-filled news of the day and
that their generation is accused
of having no soul.
And maybe the day’s politics
make them want to scream
from the rooftops, waking up
the sleeping city with their raw
energy, style, and words that pierce
the pre-dawn light and reverberate
off of the grey buildings below.
As they scrawl their fiery hopes
and dreams into cheap notebooks,
I hope they stay true to their
crazy-ass ideas of a cooler world,
and that they block out all the
“practical” and “sensible” people
when they tell them their
music is way too loud, and
that their ideas are too idealistic,
cute, and naive.
I imagine their smiles,
and the glow in their tired eyes,
after too many cups of coffee,
when they finish the last line
of their first song, satisfied that
they have created something
that cannot be contained,
something that once released
will shake the foundations of
the city and will make the
sleepwalkers open their eyes,
wake up, and be dazzled
by a cooler world.
For more self-study, The Urban Howl recommends 52 Ways to Live a Kick-Ass Life: BS-Free Wisdom to Ignite Your Inner Badass and Live the Life You Deserve.
Sip a little more: