A New Suit by Neil Uzzell

Last week I bought a new suit.
I’ve only worn it once,
but I think if I put it on
It could start wearing me.

So it hangs there,
in the closet.
gathering dust.

Before I bought it,
I stood there in the dressing room mirror,
staring at the young man
my grandmother admires
on the Sabbath Day.

Sure it looks nice,
it fits perfectly.
and I’ve always wanted a suit.
Black, with white stripes,
a skinny black tie.

the saleswoman
thought it looked good.
She even made a point
of coming in the dressing room
and showing me how well it fit at the inseam.

But now,
it’s Sunday morning around ten o’clock.
I can already hear the alarmclock
homogenizing my dreams.
And I feel the new neck tie
cutting off my circulation.
Worst, I can see the porcelain smile
I’ll be wearing tomorrow at 7:30.

Last week, my friend said,
“Man, you’ve got to quit that shit!”
And to that I responded,
“I have to pay the rent.”

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