I'm not walking
like this
to look cool–
my pants
just keep falling down.
I saunter side-to-side,
head cocked
hand on crotch.
But no, I'm not cool.
I'm not trying to
look hip,
aloof or tough.
You see,
my pants are just too big.
The inseam is far
too long.
And although I wear
this belt, they seem
to slowly creep
further and
further
down
as if once they reach
my ankles
they will finally
escape
and wander the streets
morph
into some sort of Blue Jean
Blob Creature,
and slink
into a nearby gutter
only to emerge
20 blocks away,
apply for a job at
Panda Express
and for a studio
apartment
so that they
may have some
steady income
and a place
to work
on their novellas
Jan 26, 2012
Jan 26, 2012 at 12:20 AM UTC
I'm not walking
like this
to look cool–
my pants
just keep falling down.
I saunter side-to-side,
head cocked
hand on crotch.
But no, I'm not cool.
I'm not trying to
look hip,
aloof or tough.
You see,
my pants are just too big.
The inseam is far
too long.
And although I wear
this belt, they seem
to slowly creep
further and
further
down
as if once they reach
my ankles
they will finally
escape
and wander the streets
morph
into some sort of Blue Jean
Blob Creature,
and slink
into a nearby gutter
only to emerge
20 blocks away,
apply for a job at
Panda Express
and for a studio
apartment
so that they
may have some
steady income
and a place
to work
on their novellas
december 5, 2010
© kathryn peak
Request permission to use this poem