Ode to Lou Reed

Ode to Lou Reed

Ode to Lou Reed

Astor’s dandruff isn’t sticking.

Inadequate typing from a stupid suburban stranger, 
a hipster from another planet waves, “hello,” and won’t return into their spaceship. 

Not your mother,
Not your colleague or friend, 
Not your nephew or stalker, 
Don’t know your true voice, 
Don’t know what you thought before death, 
Thought in the past year, 
Or thought at all, 
But I feel the end of a hard covered ache. 

New York isn’t the same, I have heard from a million baby boomers through slanted lips and crooked teeth, 
There is money now but greenery doesn’t erode our queer existence, 
And you heard our shocking smiles, 
Our educated laughter. 
And you are there, in between my drag, 
affirming an accidental symbol. 
We are cruel, you are more human than this, 
But one dimensional and stupid I whisper in between plastic cock and whiplash (girl child) that
I love you. 

And I am molecular, delusional and stupid, 
And I love you. 

Death will remodel you into a different City, 
And the baby boomers think they can claim you, 
their haggard faces chew on nostalgia 
Like a broken record self-cannibalizing:
I– I– I– splits in half. 

Hey, I actively feel you, 
A beat in my veins, 
I never met you 
but I will miss you.