Yuppies in Ponchos

Yuppies in Ponchos

 

Black, Purple, Turquoise and Pink

A fashion nightmare, or at least you’d think

So…

But it’s not though �"

It’s actually the colours of a hooded poncho.

 

To mistake the wearer for a hippie

                Is to be taken for a fool -

Ever heard of a wolf in sheep’s clothing?

                Try a yuppie in wool.

 

That’s right �"

When the music festival is over this

Young Upwardly-Mobile Poncho-wearer

Will go back to being ‘Sarah

                                From the bank’.

Though she won’t forget to thank

St. Geldof

For the god-given right

For peace and love to be skin deep.

As easy to take off as her weekend white-girl bindi.

 

                Our father who art in heaven

                Hallowed be Band Aid

                When this festival’s done

                And the gates are closed

                We’ll remember how a Monday

                Hurts a banker the most.

 

Some people there will take that festival community feeling

And let it burn like incense all year long -

                And stay high on their romantic view of the world.

But Sarah will let festival history wash off

Like her henna tattoos.

Back in a suit next week.

‘Glastonburied’.

 

‘A neat purchase!’

The Yuppie decides, elated

                                As she stumbles somewhat inebriated

From the stalls to the mainstage.

 

But a nagging feeling causes her to look around

She tries to hear her thoughts over the sound

Of some indie band playing on the not-far-off stage.

 

Is it the bank sneaking into her thoughts

With a serpent slither?

                Or is it something bigger?

                Is it something between the money and the poncho

That doesn’t sit right with her?

She thinks. She looks at her beloved fashion nightmare…

And then with a smile she realises the source of her frustration

And realises her life could be better.

With new wisdom she looks at her wooly garment and says -

 

‘Next time I’ll get it cheaper on Amazon’

 

And so she sets off on her intoxicated odyssey

A journey further for stumbling

To see the everyday value Morrissey.