Cool

My wife asked her brother,
"What do you want for your birthday?"
and I jumped in.

I didn't think twice of it
the other day in my car.
It just occurred to me,
in the way I was sure
it must have occurred
to my parents and theirs'
in that sort of pop-culture-fed
equation that leads only
the older generations
to think, "Well, he looks
hip, and the younger relative
seems hip, so" the one
must like the other, it goes.

But when I only hinted
at what my mind had proposed,
I saw the ever-wider
generation gap open
like a trap door, and I fell.

No algebra class I had taken
could have taught a proof
to demonstrate: the only way
we can span the distance
between what is cool
and what we think is cool
is to be within earshot
of those who really know.