Second Person (Perfect)

[thepeopleseason]

You prefer the three-button blazer.
(black, not blue),
Pockets still sewn shut from the factory
Years ago.

You’ve taken to wearing it without a tie,
Just a pocket square matching your shirt
And a practiced, wide smile.

It’s become something of a rite,
You, dressed in your uniform
(lightly-starched),
Shouting or laughing or listening
To murmurs and echoes of murmurs,
The hollow buzz of conversations
As the wet of condensation
Drips from your cocktail
Onto your jeans or your slacks
Or your shirttail.

Paying no heed to the shock
Of cold, moist discomfort,
You don your plastic, wide smile
To exorcise restraint and recluse.

Comments

[cunuodin.livejournal.com]

I am doing research for my university thesis, thanks for your great points, now I am acting on a sudden impulse.