Electric boots and
a mohair suit; a boy
in bright blue jeans;
cat in black
(don’t look back)
and certainly —

tan shoes with pink shoelaces,
a polka dot vest — please,
for the love of all that is sartorial,
man oh man —
don’t mention, please,
please try to forget
the big Panama with the purple
hat band…

instead try to think of me —
me, in a simple black T-shirt
and simpler black shorts,
so much smaller
than I have ever felt or been,
standing off to one side
of rock
played loudly
and unwell; did you know
I used to get puffed up
and play my way too?
Do you know,
I’ve grown down to these clothes
now?

These canned rockers onstage
will too, or will not,
or already do in their off hours.
I think we’d all play better naked
hoping someone will see us;
nude
with the exception
of that damn hat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T