Once I knew I had enough shirts for life
the rest came easily. Fashions can be tricked;
a few shoes every decade hardly count.
But oh for the lace and the high red heels:
maybe it's best to make do with one's fur
caressing the Earth with padded digits.
Claws and incisors or long underwear?
Funny how music doesn't age as much
as wax cylinders and steel styluses.
No one plans to live in a museum
but each object like the stone in Nausea
in a certain light claims equality.
We go there whether or not we want to,
wrapped in ideas as funky as a tie
that seemed just right and was one perfect day.