We take our clothes off; pants, shirt, shoes, socks,
night clothes in the morning, day clothes at night.
Undressing mid-day occurs in a doctor’s offices,
cheap motels, or in gymnasiums after work
before going home to the day’s last dishabille.
We put on our pants on one foot in at a time,
a back and forth hopping dance
with a quake at the shoulders and shake at the hips.
We pull our t-shirts down over our heads,
and our socks up over our feet.
I have never put on a brassiere.
You have never put on a jockstrap.
In the summer I put on shorts.
In the summer you put on shorts.
In winter we layer-up against frigid weather;
long underwear, flannel red checkered shirt,
sweater or hoodie, boots, hat and gloves,
so we can be in the cold without being cold,
like a diver in an underwater suit not getting wet,
or an astronaut in a spacesuit on a moon without air.
With clothes we protect ourselves from adverse eyes.
With scarves and shoes and belts and ties,
we accessorize to advertise a fabricated disguise
as the immutable version of our malleable selves.