my clothes

My clothes
Fit well i’ve
Grown on them
You see
the thin veil of
between you and me
My clothes are a
Room of my own they
Are me
The clothes make
The man the man-made me
Made in Taiwan
Made just for me

Do you see

Do you like my style
Thread-bare and frayed
This is me
Trying to get laid
Just look at me
In faded blue jeans
So desperate to hide
My class
A long way from
Fig leaves and furs
To cover our ass
This lie of individuality
A nylon shell
A lining of skin
Blood, sweat and tears
And original sin

Here on the
Catwalk i make my
Still naked
Beneath the robes of
My profession
Here on the altar of
the fatted lambs come home
wagging their tails
to the cameraman

i was the boy who
stuffed his
genitals into a
size 28
offering a whole
scrotum-full of
possibilities to
polyester amenities
a sweet smelling
to the gurus of good

just look at me all
dressed up and
not place to go
in the emperor’s new clothes
the envy of peers
applauded by legions
on anorexic
well screw the emperor
this is treason
bring back the white-starched
shirt and the

me i never found my
style i
spent my life looking
for that tailor-made suit
i’ve spent all i own on
fashion consultants
and a wardrobe of
cheap imitations
i’m giving the shirt off my
back now too
i’ve hopelessly
outgrown it
i’ll send it to you
though a
hand-me-down hoping
wear it well
it will stretch
though it’s not your size

look at me now all
swaddled in
this shiny black
coat of skin
private parts just
barely covered in
the threads of
a poem and
our imaginations

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Guess what I'm wearing now?

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Amanda Schmidt's picture

So - do you get paid for these song lyrics? If not - they would make some great ones! (or do you have some music for these??) I read most of your stuff. This one really sticks on me. I like the theme and how it keeps rolling along. Great job! Amanda