Look on up and you will see
Clothes pins gripping dungarees
Little stockings in the air
Bloodied tufts of homespun hair
What we dry beneath God’s gaze
Sins pinched and dragged through the haze
Nothing left for us to wear
Till the breeze has dried our care
Old banners and barnyard owls
Yellow vomit speckled towels
We snap it all on the line
Hoist it like a sailor’s sign
Our distress call to the sun
Search us out while on your run
Recycle all the old sins
Checkered pants and smoke stained skins
Give us back our dignity
We’ll don the socks of chivalry
Add more starch to the collar
Tight creased pants when we holler
For gentlemen need their clothes
Tailored suits when in repose
Warmed crisp by the sun on high
Touched off with a handsome tie
You’ll find yourself pinned up there
Willowy bones weathered fair
Not a bad fate if I say
Dried out by eternal day
Nice one.
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