I am not an Emo I am a ... GOF

I’ve had it with kids with mohawks or mullets

Marble-like eyes and pimpled gullets

Can’t stand those with manholes in ear lobes

To which are attached iPhones with bright strobes

They stand around all boozed and on drugs

Vacant stares and who-gives-a-fuck shrugs

Tight tattered T-shirts, arms covered in tracks

low-hanging cargoes showing bum cracks

The dropouts, the losers, gropers and dopers,

Our malls now magnets to all the no hopers

greasy hair you couldn’t part with a rake

eyes hardly open - are they really awake?

Head full of nits and tats on their tits

Rings through nipples … holy shit!

Abusers for parents, dropkicks for mates

What can I say … their life ain’t great!

They spend their days getting up to hanky-panky

Then wonder why there’s no funds in the banky

Their idea of work? You won’t be amazed:

It’s as simple as sweeping the room with a gaze

When it comes to jobs they’re good at shirkin’

With Sundee to Saturdee spent jerkin’ the gherkin

Front up for interviews showing their undies

No wonder the dole queue’s long on Mondees

Bah! Lanky-haired emos with mascaraed eyes

Dressed all in black in a bid to disguise

There’s no spark in the dark, nil imagination

Can’t be happy when you choose procrastination

Surfers is now filled with spikey-haired dykes

The tongue-tangling kisses, oh boy, what a sight

With belly-ring bling and Chesty Bond singlets

a g’day-mate wave reveals underarm ringlets

What is it with me, who can’t tolerate youth

I mumble and grumble that they’re so uncouth

I was young once, before I drove with a hat

I pause and ponder: was I like that?

Nah, it’s not just them I whinge about

When it comes to politics I really SHOUT

Religion? either way don’t give a hoot

With injustice I really slip in the boot.

I hate bankers and wankers and corporate bullies

(Note to self: No more shopping at Woolies)

Can’t stand Singo or Ringo, the loss of our lingo

Reagents, contagents, real estate agents

Mice and lice and grubs in me rice

Pet fleas and bank fees and trips on the sea

I hate dobbers and robbers, post-modernistic art

Well, I’ve just got to admit: I’m a Grumpy Old Fart

©eoin macdhugail January 2012

Note: the views expressed in this piece are not necessarily those of the reciter