#hats
I wore a beret to the office today, and people had **** to say
I wore a baseball cap pulled down over my injured eyebrows
I wore a sombrero on an Edwardian picnic
I wore a beanie to bed every night and I think it helped a lot
I wore a balaclava that was frozen to my mouth
I wore a bucket hat because it fits my face
I wore a fedora before it was cool Reuben
I wore a kippah and family pearls
I wore a trucker hat that said
BRIDE
while my wife wore a button down that read
QUEEN
I wore a trilby then, and of course one smoked
even if one didn't enjoy it
I wore a kufi and a Public Enemy T-shirt
I wore a Santa hat and each child took my picture
I wore a homburg hat, carried a bumbershoot umbrella
I wore a panama hat to a polo match on a cloudless day
I wore a mortarboard and robe, looking tall and clear-eyed
I wore a tam o'shanter, and had Brave **** written on my back
I wore a pillbox hat to my wedding and still get compliments to this day
I wore a visor and brought a sarong with me every single day
I wore a top hat, a ripped up suit, and dead flowers in the pocket
I wore a deerstalker most of the day Saturday, and I never do that
I wore a stetson with crossed sabers, yellow cord and sgt stripes
I wore a dunce cap and was summoned to the corner for the rest of the day
I wore a boater in summer and a beret in winter.
I did not look as good as this girl
I wore a pith helmet, a veil, a bee proof space suit,
leather gloves up to my elbows
I wore a Phrygian cap of doeskin lined with otter
I wore a turban then. In a flash we were
in each other's arms in an unrelenting hug
Jul 15, 2025
Jul 15, 2025 at 7:07 PM UTC
I've got a magic hat,
That'll take you back in time.
So we can go shoot pool,
In 1999.
Or back to the 80's,
We can dance, dance baby!
Do the robot all the way back,
To the 50's.
That's where I left my I-pod,
Hope they haven't found that. . .
Mar 24, 2025
Mar 24, 2025 at 8:57 PM UTC
Wake up in the morning,
Grab my cap, tie my shoes,
Get in the car, can't wait to see you.
<3
Get dropped off,
Walk into the school,
Wait in the cafeteria for you!
<3<3
Wish you didn't forget your hoodie,
Grab mine, I don't need it,
Get some breakfast and go, I love you so.
<3<3<3
Mar 10, 2025
Mar 10, 2025 at 8:31 AM UTC
Another night I'm wasting,
According to the billionaire news letter,
Bowling with CL and JR.
A sleek new bowler's cap,
A broken in pair of bowling shoes,
I found while thrifting.
JR made a joke,
"They look like Al Capone's lost shoes."
And I guess they do,
So whether I dress like an English bartender,
Or an Italian mob boss.
That's up to you to judge,
Because I'm wearing my new bowler's cap,
My all American pool shirt,
And Al Capone's lost shoes.
Jan 10, 2025
Jan 10, 2025 at 6:29 PM UTC
I’ve been cutting Peter’s hair for a year. When covid lockdown occurred, I learned to cut my brother’s hair - and yes, he still has two ears. When I first met Peter, he had a great thick tangle of unkempt black and, in certain light, blue hair. It was **** as hell, in a lost puppy way.
Then, one Saturday morning last year, as summer began to settle in, he buzz cut it - out of the blue - you might say. When he showed up that morning for breakfast with Lisa and I (we were at Stillman), Lisa saw him first and turned just in time to see me, see him. She saw my squint as the sign of trouble it was.
Lisa’s yoda. “Guys,” she said simply.
How can I put this: Eeuuwww, creepy. Peter’s tall and lanky, like descriptions I’ve read of a young Abraham Lincoln, although unlike that great man, Peter’s rather handsome - with hair.
If the stubble were red, I could say he looked exactly like a matchstick, but with his black hair against his bone-white head, he looked more like an escaped convict.
When he got to our table he rubbed his hand over the ruin of his lost hair, and grinning, said, “How’d you like it?”
“Wow,” Lisa said, recusing herself noncommittedly.
I looked up from my phone, “We need to get you a HAT,” I said softly.
“Why?” he said, his grin dimming by a good 50%.
“Because,” I said, summoning all of my notable tact, “you aren’t going to hang around ME looking like Forrest Gump.” I’d just looked up hat stores and found one five blocks away, DelMonico Hatter, on Elm street. They even had the hat I was looking for in stock.
“What?” He started defensively.
“Get something to go.” I said, standing up and starting to gather up my things.
Peter, swimming like he usually does, got an egg & sausage biscuit and a cup of coffee to go.
As the three of us were walking, I asked Peter, “You like 'Breaking Bad', ya?”
“Sure,” he said, with a mouth half-full of biscuit.
“We’re getting you a heisenberg” I said, grinning. “or two.”
“No, I don’t know,” he said, slowing his walk. I could tell he was worried about the money. Peter and I had only been seeing each other casually at that point - we’d never even kissed - but I knew he lived on a small stipend, he received monthly, while completing his doctorate.
“Look,” I said, coming to a stop. We all came to a stop. “I’m flush, this is MY treat and I don’t want you to worry about it.” When he still looked hesitant, I said, exaggeratedly, as I started to walk again, “Don’t worry, you won’t owe me any ****** favors.”
“Aww, **** he said with a grin.
“She does this,” Lisa whispered to him, too loudly.
Eventually, we found him two Heisenberg hats for around $200. One, for summer day wear, a light beige Bailey Carver Straw Porkpie and the other, for nightwear, a Roche, DelMonico Palma Felt Pork Pie - just like Walter White’s. He looked quite the bengali menace.
Of course, his hair grew back in a few months, but he kept wearing the hats. And now I cut his hair - to prevent any sudden, k-mart inspirations.
Apr 3, 2023
Apr 3, 2023 at 9:30 PM UTC
At this time of my life
I find myself wearing hats…
I’m not happy with my head you see,
In short, being able to see it
it just doesn’t thrill me.
Not through those depressing, disappearing strands.
So it’s that time - It’s hat time!
Hats are warm, comforting things;
take it off and, for a while at least,
it feels still there - a phantom hat.
Not quite as spooky or worrying
as a phantom arm or leg - after that
severed limb thing, but right there!
It really is that time - It’s hat time!
My Grandma Lamplough,
that’s on my mother’s side,
was an avid knitter of things to order,
She was even a freelancer for Jaeger…
matinée jackets, mittens, cardies, pullovers
But in later days mostly just tea cosies.
If there was no immediate customer in mind…
“Everybody needs a cosy and one size fits all”
she would say… and anyway,
commissions were rare for cosies back in the day
She’d wear it boldly herself
with handle and spout slots front & back, proud
She’d start the next one and announce
to every visitor right out loud…
”Hey…Do you want a cosy for your ***
Mr Watling, the milkman, he had quite a lot!
But then he showed up every day!
A quart is it Mrs L?… and yes, I WILL have a cosy today!
Me? I’ve never fancied a toupee, wig
or go in for a Bobby Charlton tribute gig ….
I’ll be happy just to settle for a beret,
news boy or Fedora… to hide the offending pate
and avoid the comb over till a later date.
Meanwhile I’ll maybe settle for Grandma’s cosy special?
Nov 6, 2020
Nov 6, 2020 at 9:32 AM UTC
The sun, shined warmly this morning.
Yet by noon the rain clouds rolled in.
We donned our sweaters and hats.
Yet off they came and the clouds parted
And the sun began to shine.
Facing the sun
It warmed our cheeks
Lifted our souls.
Our hearts understood
Even when it rains
The sun continues to shine
Above and between the clouds.
COVID-19 is just like a little rain
In the larger scheme of Life.
When trouble comes
We don our coats
And remove them
The sun shines hot upon us.
Day after day,
Season after season
Year after year
Looking between the clouds
Lifting our eyes to the Light
Noticing the wheels
Within the wheels
And cycles within cycles
It is the same within
As is above.
The sun in its orbit
With the Earth revolving
And turning upon itself
Inward around the sun.
Season after season
Circling, around
The evolving celestial paths.
Until this too is but a memory of long ago
When the COVID viruses used to roam the earth.
Apr 24, 2020
Apr 24, 2020 at 3:38 AM UTC
You want to make something beautiful.
You try on your many hats-
Can you make art that stirs hearts to syncopated fluid intake?
Can you sing songs that lift the diaphragm?
Can you move in a dance that will bring your audience’s tear ducts to full production?
But you are not good at those things.
And you are not patient- here’s where it gets difficult.
You are not patient, so you move on.
You pull more hats from the closet.
You want to make something beautiful, so you save lives
In safety features for automated factories,
In the stitch of a needle through shredded flesh,
In the measure of a brace in a new office building
But you are too good at those things.
You want to feel like you’ve made something beautiful
Not just looking back, but as you make it
The stroke of a brush forming the curve of a lover’s cheek
The curl of the final bracket in a series of nested loops
The flex of your shoulderblades and press into the pillows
Everyone wants to make something beautiful,
In blood, in sweat, in paint
In lyric and code, in ink and tears
They want to have made something extraordinary by the time they die
So they can say they did, so it wasn’t a waste, so it just
So it was, and is, and could be forever.
Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 9:29 AM UTC
I wear many hats
i switch them up
Turn them
in
side
out
I wear the hat
that presents me
as the person i am
in the moment
But how do I wear so many different hats?
how can i be such a
versatile,
flexible,
changeable,
thing?
Do I Even Have A Personality?
Or AM I jusT a BundLe of PaRts?
Interchangeable pieces,
No defined course of action
am i even a person?
or just a reflection of who i think i should be?
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 1:24 AM UTC
advertising pays
very well
if you've an excellent
product to sell
you won't believe
the turn over you'll obtain
when posting an ad
on your pages plain
advertising is where its at
on letting the public know
about a bowler hat
Marks and Spencer
have the latest range
on their London stores
display mat
were it not for free to air television
and billboards on the street
we'd be unaware of an Aspire brand
of cotton sheet
advertising reaches
potential customers
looking for wares
who'll be wanting
to purchase
a variety of hares
Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 6:47 AM UTC
Bright blue skies and country roads,
Dust trails billowing behind the distant rumble of a 4x4
Gravel crunching, stones skipping
Sweat on his forehead and barley in his mouth,
Broad-brim hat clapped on his head
Dusty jeans and boots,
Checked red shirt and plain sandy dirt
This is the image of Australians
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 9:43 PM UTC
Each night, indigo blue smoke bloomed from the candle sitting on the patio table while the tall brown-eyed girl spat chewing tobacco into a Styrofoam cup leaning forward with her elbows on the porch railing, watching the black birds pick apart a chicken bone as they teeter tottered across a sable telephone cable. Her name was Candace and she wore a backwards baseball cap, that belonged to her brother Joshua. He had died from a brain aneurysm last year.
She always would tread her fingers around the wide brim of the blue cap, close her eyes and remember how her brother use to take her
to softball practice back when she was in elementary school, driving
her around in his lime green Mitsubishi GT 3000, with the windows down, and Pink Floyd percolating from the soothing speakers built
into the dashboard. After Joshua had died, Candace dropped out of Mary Washington. She found a job at Movie Theater down the street from the baseball diamond, working at behind the register, arms propped on the countertop, wishing that she had tried out for the club softball team at college. When her shift would end
she’d go back home and sleep in until midafternoon. Then she’d wake up and march over to the library to read the picture books while snuggling on the lumpy couch with the plump giraffes and short elephants, the toy animals with the holes on the bottom of
their rear ends where the stuffing would roll out whenever she’d squeeze their heads.
One rainy day she strolled to the lake and stole a rowboat from the wooden dock. Dipping the plastic oar into the calm current, she paddled through the blue water, yawning, stuck in her daydreams about winning that soft ball championship back when she was ten years old, and after the game her brother had bought her a fudge brownie sundae
and a strawberry milkshake, with a ****** cherry sunk in the whipped cream. The night grew darker, as her memories turned more emotional. So she came back to shore, tied the rowboat back to the dock with looping a knot around the nook with a thick rope cord. Then she went back to her apartment house and
crashed on the couch, the blue baseball cap falling onto the floor.
When she woke up from her nap she put her cap back on her head, and
went out on the porch, lit a cigarette, then gazed out at the shining moon
suspended in the clouded sky. She reached out with her arm, her fingers stretched.
The depths of Joshua’s soul lay beyond her touch, and she knew it.
She grounded out the cigarette, went upstairs to her bedroom, shut the door. And then she cried, cried until the hot tears turned icy with the pain, that was wracking her heart with an emotion that staggered like Joshua had when he was in the kitchen that one day, swaying back and forth. Dropping
to the tiled floor, blood running out his nose like a baseball player
stealing home. Then the memory dissipated from her mind, as if it never
come to fruition in the first place. She took off her blue baseball cap.
She held it in her hands. She clutched the wide brim and treaded her fingers around the stitching, wondering why Joshua had to leave her life.
And why she couldn’t let go of this baseball cap.
Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 10:26 PM UTC
It's hard to meet new people
they're so foreign
they do things like wear hats
and play baseball
they listen to bad music
they like crossword puzzles
I don't like to hear them talk
but
at night
when I get very cold
and sometimes it hurts to breathe
I'd like one of them next to me
or I'd like to hear them talk
anything to make me warm again
I can't have it all
but sometimes
I want it.
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 5:50 AM UTC
Under the bridge
Pills, muscle & back relief
Empty
Cigarettes, mirror pond pale ale
Sail away from consciousness
**** slowly
Socials Studies 10 homework
Conflicted cultures, transient economy
Fur hats
Exploration, exploitation, for
Fur hats!
Litter, candy wrapper
What are you underneath that pretty shell?
Hard heart
Soft heart
Fragile
Pencil
Potential
Lost hope, failed system
Failure
Still the stream runs on, runs away
A steady hum, a constant purr
Pure
Impure
Sinner
One day the stream will dry
And be forgotten, swept away into
Oblivion
Our memories, our ghosts
Numbed by the sound of water
Vanishes in time's cascade
Like pioneers and their fur hats.
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 2:28 PM UTC
When we come here
We come here to dream,
To live wealthy seaside fantasies
Until it's time to leave.
We hang our hats by the door,
And exchange our dreams for reality
Holding dearly to our memories
To keep us working, endlessly
Until our next retreat.
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 11:07 PM UTC
The thing I love about cats
Is that they can wear hats
I'd love them to wear spatz
But that would look ridiculous.
A cat in a hat
Dancing in spatz
Is the key to my happiness
Fancy that!
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 3:02 AM UTC