Samuel Taylor Coleridge Goes to Vienna
I went to Vienna. I got dressed up for it, I wore a dark suit
With grey stripes, A white shirt with stays,
A fluffy orange cravat, sheer,
tucked into my waistcoat
secured nicely with a carnelian
On my head, I wore three sides cocked
A hatmaker in Somerset
made it for me.
The carriage left me at the station
And I was thinking:
How do I look?
I got on the short carriage
to The train.
I was feeling unsettled.
There was one other man on the shuttle, A black man.
He was wearing a dark suit With light stripes
And a hat Like mine.
He wore it cocked, Just as I was.
He had a graying beard Cut close to his face,
just as I did that day.
We stared at each other For a long moment.
Just as I was thinking do you feel unsettled
— he broke the silence:
“you look fine, sir,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said, “you also.”
I later saw him in the station and he nodded to me, I nodded to him. Iʼm sure he is telling this story to someone. Maybe heʼll read it one day and recognize
Iʼm sure he didnʼt think he looked like Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
I swear to God. Donʼt go to Vienna, it will make you