FUCKING SUITS! - from Bangkok with love.

FUCKING SUITS!

Yesterday was a day for wearing suits.

Mine was getting altered by a tailor who was pinning out my form,
He chalked a shape of someone I’d forgotten.

You were at a wedding.

Your second in 2 weeks.

I met you at the Seven-eleven.

I was drunk from lively conversation with the lively artists,

Smiles and whiskey down the bar at 23.
You’d been to a wedding and you wore your finest suit
(It is cheap and lacks a semesters’ touch.)

You are dressing slowly, carefully, having hung the jacket proudly on my door.
Its shape belongs to you, even though it is not fitted.
There’s honesty cut into your suit that drapes misshaped,
I'd forgotten how to wear a suit with pride.

Yesterday, I was Man-dragged,
I tripped my day sweating and smiling up through Sukhumvit.
It reeked of shit.
Shit and old white men who pretended not to notice that their wives were younger than their eldest sons.
I, white faced flushed,
I wandered through the shopping mall belonging, though I shouldn’t buy a thing,
I bought some lunch.
I thought of you, then I wondered through the shopping mall, not in wonder.
I always hated shopping malls like this.
I always hated Disney land.
You innocently loved it all,

You'd love to buy this shit.

Even though your suit does not belong behind my door,
You wear yours out with pride,
Mine, tailored to perfection, is a lie.