might i try on your paradigm?
i want to feel your material
against my naked skin
for just a moment
although, i am certain that
it won't fit properly.
such baggy bigotry is not becoming on me
your loose logic won't stay around my waist
the belt of bias isn't strong enough
to hold up these trite trousers.
i'm caught with your pants down,
with arguments around my ankles.
who could sew such a garment?
moreover, who could wear it?
who are you, big spender,
in clothes you can't fill?
i tear off these vestments
and slip my old black habit
over my head. it fits comfortably.
this wrinkled wisdom may be a little faded.
my ideology may be coming apart at the seams.
these paradigm clothes of mine may be
torn and tattered, second-hand philosophy
that is stained in a few places.
my faith is a little frayed.
i may not have a strong moral fibre
but at least these ideas aren't fabricated.
i may not be very fashionable, i may be
out of style, but i'll never be naked.
