Monday, September 27, 2010

It must be Sweater Vest Weather!

(With some apologies to Mr. Simon and Mr. Garfunkel.)

Hello sweater vest, my old friend
I've come to put you on again
Because a cold front softly creeping
Left its chill while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
A vest of warmth . . . with no sleeves.

Through cubicles I walked alone
Narrow rows of office drones
'Neath the halo of halogen lamps
I flaunt my arms to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of the Xerox light
That split my sight
And touched the hem . . . of my vest.

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand sweaters, maybe more
People warming without vesting
Coats a'wearin' without styling
People wearing clothes that Tressel never wears
I only dared
To wear the vest I so loved

"Fools", said I, "You do not know
Sleeveless is the way to go.
View my vest that I might teach you
See my arms? So easy to reach you."
But my words, like silent raindrops fell
And echoed
In the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the coats of cotton they had made
And the wind blew out its warning
Of the front that it was forming
And the wind said, "The words of the prophets are seen on his exposed arms
And V-necked top"
And whispered "Wear the vest . . . you'll love it."

(Want to know more? Read on here.)

No comments: