Reflection deceives.
Hope I might look sharp Friday,
but of bagginess,
suit hangs like rags, dark stained ties,
patterns from old times wilting.
Making a man old,
shirts that are lose on the neck,
as who wants to choke?
Shoes, scratched, polished, but cloddish,
If not sharp, I’ll be stupid.
Day Job, Depression, Double, Failure, Fear, Poems, Poetry, Tanka
This entry was posted on May 18, 2011, 5:15 am and is filed under Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through RSS 2.0. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
| Blog: |
| Stillfugue |
Topics: |
| Fiction, Poetry, Essays |
stillfugue
#1 by carldagostino on May 18, 2011 - 5:34 am
I get suits from Haband mail order. Just $50 ! And the wool polyester blend is machine washable! Such a bargain. I have two dozen suits. I am retired. I have had to wear asuit 3 times in the last two years. Why would I own all this clothing? Still there is a white linen (fake polyester blend because linen has to be ironed every 14 minutes)and it is soooo South Beach Miamish. Plus there are more than 11 people worldwide that love my poetry and I will need a new suit in which to receive the award at the convention.
#2 by Carl on May 18, 2011 - 9:41 am
Carl, You are a genius! I have a new alternative! You left out million – 11 million worldwide! You’re a rock star poet!
#3 by claudia on May 18, 2011 - 10:08 am
alone this one line…suit hangs like rags, dark stained ties…says so much – i can feel this i’m not a man and i don’t wear ties but i know this feeling
#4 by Carl on May 19, 2011 - 12:07 am
Thank you so much, Claudia. That means so much when people can feel what we’re after.