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