Why do I dress
the way I do?
My polka-dot tie
tucked into my shoe
this cammo shirt
these striped dress pants
an orchid broach
that I think was my aunt's
socks of many colors
hats of many sizes
are generally of what
my wardrobe comprises
my belt is bandanas
and twist tie tops
my shoe strings from
a ukulele that belonged to my pops
my underwear I shall not mention
because when unmentionables
are mentioned there is no prevention
for the lingering tension
that's beyond comprehension:
they're just there for suspension!
(there is the contention
they get too much attention
at least in Victoria's
secret dimension)
my gloves don't match
my watch has a scratch
infinity begins
for my scarf never ends
So why do I dress
the way I do
looking like
I have no clue?
the fashion police
had no warning
my wife wasn't up
when I left home this morning.
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