See them stooped on crowded buses,
Slayer slathered on their back.
Watch them as they queue in Tesco,
grey of hair and garbed in black.
Spy them as they stand in Camden
clinging hard to distant days,
Buzzcocks bulging on their belly,
boyhoods fading through the haze.
Pogo proudly, grizzled grandad!
Raise your glasses to the scene!
Even as the light is dying,
rage against that time machine.
Joshua Seigal
