What is the point
ill-fitting clothes that that turn to rags?
I should buy new clothes for each decade.
Who knew that bell bottoms would not stand the test of time?
“Out! Out! Damned spot.”
Who knew my cod piece could not withstand the grime?
As I lay naked next to you,
I am painfully aware of the limited time before
the spin cycle is over.
I rise and go. You protest slightly.
When I return to our bed you are ash and dust
and I finally understand the crimes of fashion.