Body-Coat (Poetry)

This body-coat to some looks good enough
given all the wear and tear of age
although its treatment’s never been that rough
it’s weathered poorly — patched — its fabric frayed

along those edges hidden or disguised
as though denial might improve the weave
the holes transparent to perceptive eyes
who understand appearances deceive.

So long in service but no longer fit
no stretch or give and thinned to quiet despair
what once hung smooth has shapelessness to it
all sags and wrinkles lacking style or flair.

That made-to-measure confidence has gone
too many threads are bare, my seams are shot
I’ve little choice but lump it and press on
for this old skin’s the only one I’ve got.