TANK TOP

TANK TOP
I went out last night
in a cut off tank top
I’d fashioned from an old t shirt
that read BEER FRIDGE
I went out last night
to my normal haunts
the Press Room
Daniel Street Tavern
the places where the people go
the people who have given up
lying to themselves
and have accepted themselves
for whoever they are
I nodded and mumbled hellos
to all the regulars
and the bartenders
but something was different
they all looked at me
with cold, strange eyes
until after many minutes of staring
each one said, “oh, JESUS! I didn’t
recognize you with that tank top on!”
or “fuck, is that really you?”
or “holy shit! Jackson?”
until then
I didn’t know
such a small change of wardrobe
could make you into a stranger
and now I’m thinking
I might wear tank tops
everywhere I go