"WHAT TO WEAR
My mind knits mufflers,
cherry bright red scarves
for the hell bound masses. (maybe "I didn't know." is a defense after all.)
Knit, knit, knit and pearl
"Here, put this on." I tell the lost. "There is a cold coming: a storm. Wear my scarves."
I put on one myself, (just in case.) I tell myself that it helps
but heart down I know the truth
of how I'll be bared soul and all:
how I have to laugh
at the ridiculous site
of standing bare
my red fringed muffler blowing in the breeze,
trying to answer why.