Death Of A Haberdasher

He felt compelled to overdress.

It hadn’t happened yet.

Perhaps it was recollection.

Perhaps it was anticipation. 

Regardless. 

He wanted to look great for the occasion

So, he took it upon himself

To over dress all the time.

He wanted the eventual moment 

To be pristine 

I wanted it to be prescient 

That those present might be touched

To their very soul, 

In all likelihood,  not so much 

for what a great Man he was,

Then for at least how nice he looked.

Explanations hardly suffice

Yet explain he did.

Perspective is important.

Let’s leave that for the moment.

Let’s move on with our little story.

Let’s call it the third wall.

Let’s call it the third eye. 

Who better to understand sadness

And joy

Than the man in the throes of 

Leaving this dark and scurrilous picnic

The exit wound of time

Where a man steps through the veil.

Where a man shows up in front of himself

like the wizard of oz.

with a killer punchline 

heard one hundred times before

Yet still hysterically funny

Derek Earl Houghton