gutless form of
grey flannel
and bowler hat
tapping briefcase
with finger
pencil callused
autocratic directions
of how the
shapeless should fit
tailors chalk on cloth
decisive lines
to trim or sew
mouths stitched so
neatly shut
limbs severed so that
the fall of material
should be so suitable
old money new money
contra entries
that become the washerwomans
laundry
in colonial towns
with brighter sun
and sweated brows
grey flannel choke
and soft eton tones
cruciform stretched
with benefits denied
g&t cold pink lemonade
taking canapes on landscaped lawn
take a bow doff your cap
grateful for what you
don’t receive
inbred subservience
of the golden age
long shadows
keeping us in the dark
mouth torn open
begins to shout
blood on lips
blood on tongue
strike a match
to cauterize
and light the beacon torch
flannel shadows
cannot keep us hidden
or denied
we have voices
as we are many
and you are few
copyyright Chris Lawrence