Buzzcock Menopause

Dedicated to all womenfolk who have ever had hotflashes in public places. I had one at a Buzzcock concert . . . which is some level of irony. Buzzcock Menopause you realize you’re staring over a sea of leather twang hipsters you reach out to catch the echo of a phrase inside your head: youth is wasted on the young you can only say this because you are not young or hipped     tight     the tears fall like fancy fragments nothing is wrong everything is wrong insisting it flows from your eyes your husband nods his head and lips the tune played by a man on stage who looks like someone’s dad but the kids don’t mind because he’s rockin the scene they all know the words you can’t hear the words     like a reverie the breakdown builds in your face and burns hotter than...