I want to be a Fashionista
though that term is passé.
I want to be in that parade Easter
please, don’t call me gay.
I want to look Dandy
in my Italian Tees (?)
Middle-aged eye candy
Cum Laude F I T.
Seventh Avenue, show me the way
so folks will glance and say: Who?
OK, you can call me gay
and my designers too.
They’ll dress me in pastels
solids, plaids, and stripes.
In retro bottom-bells
or pants that are stove-pipes.
My jacket, form-fitting
old Zoot suit back in style.
Silk preferred, No knitting,
as I strut down the aisle.
So, Black and White, adieu
you had a decent run.
Gay Rainbows burst anew
in this New York sun.
Puma/MMXI
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