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My Uniform |
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My uniform is grey and green and light blue and I never take it off. I can't for to do so would mean my death. And I do not want to die. I want to be in your face like it's springtime. Like it's springtime and we're glued together. In the right context I could stand for a generation. I could stand like I've been away for three days and I'm thinner than ever. What after all is the alternative? I spit and I frown and I place my hand on my hip. At times I crack an uncharacteristic smile. I have a right to impose. You look at me like I've dialed a wrong number but I can tell you things. I can stand like a barometer. Like a compilation of body parts. You're mad at me but I have a disease. My uniform is grey and green and light blue and I never take it off. |
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