at the Formal with Tired-AttireA Poem by jacob erin-cilbertoat the Formal with
Tired-Attire
ego's
suit the tie perfectly
straight pants creased with
finest logic shoes shine with a
mind's brilliance
no scuffs, not one wrinkle in the
wisdom affluent hair parted
down the middle of IQ that reflects purpose
combed through annals of alchemy
gold glittered words
spoken from veins rich with a
propensity for proper articulation the clouds bow
he's a sharp dressed
dancer of scholastic discipline but realizes not, that his wardrobe is so
out of fashion and his eyes give away a
disheveled disdain
because his loneliness
is a hat that fits much too
snugly on his swelled head.
erin-cilberto 5/11/16 © 2016 jacob erin-cilbertoReviews
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9 Reviews Added on May 12, 2016 Last Updated on May 12, 2016 Authorjacob erin-cilbertoCarbondale, ILAboutOriginally from Bronx, NY, I live in Carbondale, Illinois...teach English at a community college and have been writing and publishing poetry since 1970. I am here to read for inspiration from other po.. more..Writing
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