Down the Cravat!

Down the Cravat!


Packed them up.

Sent them off

to another state,

to my son

who goes to court

and obeys the rules,


to my daughter

who used them

to decorate the walls.


I mean,

why do I need

a rope

around my neck?


So, like Houdini,

I’ve escaped

the rigidities,

the requisites.

It was a way of life

to which I could no longer adhere.


No boss-man now to say

You’re not dressed right.

Thank God!

I’ve got away

from all that crap: tie,

jacket, starched white shirt.

They’re in the cedar closet, out of sight.

Nothing like sloppy sweats and muddied sneaks

to assuage the soul.