I have been reading Thoreau this week, and in the first chapter on economics he speaks about the different clothes people wear like uniforms. Brought to mind this poem… I think he even uses the phrase skin suit. Any rate, sorry Friday, but here’s to a little throwback to the Sailor Poet days on Sunday.
Inside my closet, skin suits hang…
no… keep reading… not what you think
No cops, no morbid novels, just metaphor
today, the absurd tool I use to help me
Explain something I otherwise have a tough
Time explaining. And these lines?
A stall tactic.
You must have asked a question I needed to
Avoid. Sorry, was wrapping some brain cells
Underneath the ones you are used to hearing
Slide across these pages
Around that otherwise morbid thought…
Hanging in my closet. Already, obvious symbolism,
But, I am not going to take them out, just
Going to look at them a bit and marvel a bit
At how many I have tried on over the years.
Looking for a list poem now? I don’t want to
Disappoint, but since I am tired of not
Disappointing you, no list.
None of them fit
very well, anyways.
Much like my yoyo from 32 to 34 to 36 to 38 to 40
to 38 to 36 to 34 to 36 to 38 to 36 to … that
Causes the wardrobe to slowly throb or keeps filling
The donation bags left between the screen door
and Frame these skin suits have lacked necessary
None of them fit
I look down at my current skin suit
Naked (whoa… metaphor, here, silly, don’t avert
your eyes, I need you to keep reading)
and Wonder if it really fits.
Into the donation bag, I stuff the contents of my closet
Then drop the bag on my stoop
Standing naked for my neighbors, for the world
To see! and…
This feels sort of embarrassing,
Standing naked on my stoop like this, but
If you get the gist, I am going to close the door now
And go back behind the fourth wall
Into my fourth dimension
And look for my
(C) 2017 Stephen Fuller