At the zenith
of sartorial sloppiness,
frittered loosely in my scruff,

I clobber,
combats, sneakers,
faux-fur coats and baggy t shirts
stuff that wraps me up,
and I'm OK..

You can keep
your first- world
judgement

see
I've always
been this way

part scarecrow, hermit,
vermin, pirate,

all at sea with
modern stylists.

                    

And by the circle of our
strange unwritten rules

for a season, once in twenty years,
I, somehow, become cool.