The pants of youth

are
no longer for me
the pants of youth
baggy crotch heading
down to knees
mine are to be
the working man
blue levi’s
with the waistband heading
in the other direction
as time nibbles
this once beautiful ass
no more my hazy days
in strawberry crushed velvet loons
heady student days
in candy striped pajamas
I could now get away
possibly
with patrician dull red
yellow mustard cords
but no more
embroidered leg bell bottoms
green & blue plaid trews
the black allure of 501’s
or
zippered
poppered
postbox red
bondage pants
if I won’t act my age
my wardrobe
will have to do it for me

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