#1571 - I have always worn dead men’s clothes

 

1571

5.110

19.iv.24

I have always worn dead men’s clothes

 

such solemn laughter borne about

 

a loose thread

tug at the story

 

I am practising at life

 

go through the pockets

find an old list

 

wash, fold, never press                                                                                                                                                            

 

they fit

they suit me

 

and some were hardly worn you know

occasion yet demanded

 

I see them in a mirror

 

colour the day with old hopes

 

here where the comfortable limbs would fit

as paws up a tree

 

and whether this frame were held or no

 

a rough touch too

where forever ended

 

stockpile fabric eloquence

something sewn in

mulch yet

 

I read

I speak their words as well

 

say shy under

in the shirt

where once another heart

 

a buttonhole nosegay

 

as the handkerchief holds ancient tears

I slip on this sarcophagus

 

make bright as mourning

wear the reliquary threads

 

I choose among them for the day ahead

 

old souls from plastic hangers