by Bill Trowbridge
It chafed like some new skin weâ€™d grown,
or feathers, the cummerbund and starched collar
pinching us to show how real this transformation
into princes was, how powerful weâ€™d grown
by getting driversâ€™ licenses, how tall and total
our new perspective, above that rusty keyhole
parents squinted through. Weâ€™d found the key:
that nothing really counts except a romance
bright as Technicolor, wide as Cinerama,
and this could be the night. No lie.
0 thoughts on “Rental Tux”
Strange how something like clothes can affect our social and self image. Does it derive from the ‘social’ or the ‘self’? mmm. mostly from the outer social i’d say. Though there’s times when i use ‘cleaning up’ symbolically i.e. taking shower, shaving, dressing in a nice shirt with my Dockers slippers just to feel better about myself even though i’m staying at home alone.
I like how this poem immerses the reader suddenly into quick transformation from pauper [?] to prince using the all-inclusive ‘we’ thruout the piece. Line 5 gives us some clue with “by getting driversâ€™ licenses” so we know the poet is speaking of youth. So often, the pitfall of being caught up in symbolic acts may be becoming superficial or detatched from reality by depending on ‘the cover of the book’. But i think there’s a middle ground between being Diogenes the Cynic and David Beckam…dressing up can be a tool–use it properly but don’t let it go to your head.
But this is not a poem exploring that downside–this is a poem marveling in the youthful discovery of self expression. I love the ending: “Weâ€™d found the key:
that nothing really counts except a romance bright as Technicolor, wide as Cinerama, and this could be the night. No lie.”
Awesome! Thanks for sharing!