Eulogy for the Working Man

Everyone is dressed so seriously in their dark navy pants, black jackets, brown boots, gray hoodies, houndstooth hats, herringbone trousers, mahogany leather purses, chestnut gloves, maroon socks. The rush hour traffic is dressed subdued, ready for a funeral procession, solemn as a depressed preacher, lonely as a poet, dismal as a rainy autumn day.  I feel adequately prepared for the day in my purple pants, bright legs ready for the dance of another day, ready to jig for another hustle . In this parade of sad clowns, I am the outlier.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s