I Went to Las Vegas Dressed up Like Samuel Taylor Coleridge
April 18, 2009
I went today. I got dressed up for it, I wore a dark suit
With grey stripes, A white shirt with cufflinks, Instead of a tie
An orange ascot, sheer, Vintage, flamboyant around my neck.
On my head, I wore a dark velvet cap backwards That a hatmaker in New York City
made for me.
I parked my car in the long term lot And I was thinking:
What’s happening to me? Why do I make myself up like this, now, In my life?
I got on the shuttle bus to The airport. I was feeling unsettled.
There was one other man on the bus, A black man.
He was wearing a dark suit With light stripes
And a hat Like mine.
He wore it backwards, Just like I was.
He had a graying beard Cut close to his face, just like I do.
We stared at each other For a long moment.
He knew what I was thinking, I knew what he was thinking.
We looked just alike. We didn’t turn away from each other, Just as I was thinking do you feel unsettled — he broke the silence:
“you look good, man,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said, “you too.”
I later saw him in the airport and he nodded to me, I nodded to him. I’m sure he is telling this story to someone. Maybe he’ll read it one day and recognize
Himself. I’m sure he didn’t think he looked like Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
I swear to God. Don’t go to Las Vegas, it’ll mess you up.