Ode to My Suit

Ode to My Suit Poem Text

Ode to my Suit

Every morning, suit,

you are waiting on a chair

to be filled

by my vanity, my love,

my hope, my body.


only half awake

I leave the shower

to shrug into your sleeves,

my legs seek

the hollow of your legs,

and thus embraced

by your unfailing loyalty

I take my morning walk,

work my way into my poetry;

from my windows I see

the things,

men, women,

events and struggles

constantly shaping me,

constantly confronting me,

setting my hands to the task,

opening my eyes, creasing my lips,

and in the same way,


I am shaping you,

poking out your elbows,

wearing you threadbare,

and so your life grows

in the image of my own.

In the wind

you flap and hum

as if you were my soul,

in bad moments

you cling

to my bones,

abandoned, at nighttime

darkness and dream

people with their phantoms

your wings and mine.

I wonder

whether some day

an enemy


will stain you with my blood,

for then

you would die with me,

but perhaps

it will be

less dramatic,


and you will grow ill,


with me, with my body,

and together

we will be lowered

into the earth.

That's why

every day

I greet you

with respect and then

you embrace me and I forget you,

because we are one being

and shall be always

in the wind,

through the night,

the streets and the struggle,

one body,

maybe, maybe, one day, still.