my clothes

My clothes

Fit well i’ve

Grown on them

You see

the thin veil of

interpretation

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 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

Confession

Still naked

Beneath the robes of

My profession

Here on the altar of

Fashion

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

sacrifice

to the gurus of good

taste







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

faggot-queens

well screw the emperor

this is treason

bring back the white-starched

shirt and the

knee-patch-for-good-reasons



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

yet



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

View karlmcallister's Full Portfolio
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