I
Among twenty tweets and podcasts,
The only indie thing
Was the blog of the hipster.

II
I had three mixtapes,
Like a party
At which there are three hipsters

III
The hipster busted a move in the mosh pit.
It was deck but didn't make Page Six.

IV
A dude and a chick
Meet on OK Cupid.
A dude and a chick and a hipster
Meet on Craigslist.

V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of mumblecore
Or the beauty of macchiatos,
The hipster snarking
Or just after.

VI
Developers filled the long window
With ironic glass.
The shadow of the hipster
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the condo
A trustafarian cause.

VII
O thin models of Soho,
Why do you imagine Goldman bankers?
Do you not hook up with that hipster?
He's totes fugly,
But he has early shares of Facebook.

VIII
I know Portland accents
And rhythms of Austin in SXSW;
But I know, too,
That the hipster knows
They're so five minutes ago.

IX
When the hipster walked out of sight,
He went for a Stumptown at --
You probably haven't heard of it.

X
At the sight of hipsters
Eating artisanal cheese,
Even the bawds of old media
Would see a fresh demographic.

XI
He rode over Billyburg
On a fixie.
Once, he checked himself out
In the window
And thought,
Is skateboarding hipper?

XII
The L train is moving.
The hipster must be flying.

XIII
It was, like, dark all afternoon.
It was cooler than Gaiman
And it was going to be cooler than Banksy.
The hipster said
Hey whatever, dude.

I
Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.

II
I was of three minds,
Like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds.

III
The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.
It was a small part of the pantomime.

IV
A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a blackbird
Are one.

V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.

VI
Icicles filled the long window
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable cause.

VII
O thin men of Haddam,
Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the blackbird
Walks around the feet
Of the women about you?

VIII
I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.

IX
When the blackbird flew out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.

X
At the sight of blackbirds
Flying in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply.

XI
He rode over Connecticut
In a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage
For blackbirds.

XII
The river is moving.
The blackbird must be flying.

XIII
It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs.