I\u2019m going to wear my clothes inside out.
\nOld cloth, stained and spotted,
\nsuddenly respectable, turned around
\nunblemished.
\nLike skin never exposed,
\nclear as a child\u2019s.
\nSo it would be stories told,
\nfrom hidden plateaus of work and love.<\/p>\n
The treasure of untold truth and
\nuninhibited passion.
\nWe underestimate the virtue of honesty.
\nIf life were lived exposed,
\nabscesses of deceit, theft and cruelty
\ncould not fester.
\nGoodness would be found out,
\nfor goodness is often unaware of itself,
\nand beauty seldom marred by conceit, is
\noften forced into itself by jealousy.<\/p>\n
And so it would be
\nthe way I write.
\nPeople would comment
\non meeting me,
\nhow polished I am inside.
\nHow different from the idiosyncrasy
\nand imprecision of my prose.
\nAnd they would forget what harlequins know.
\nLaughing is weeping inside out.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I\u2019m going to wear my clothes inside out. Old cloth, stained and spotted, suddenly respectable, turned around unblemished. Like skin never exposed, clear as a…<\/p>\n