by Mark Rawlins
“You’re not going out wearing that!”
said my son in disgust at my black trilby hat.
“But it’s cool,” I protest, “and stylish and neat,
and heads will turn as I walk down the street.
It makes me look cool, it makes me look flash,
and I wore one like this when I first saw The Clash.”
“The 80s are over,” he said with a glare,
“you’re past it and old, and you’ve lost all your hair.
Someone might see you, one of the crew,
and then they’ll all know I’ve got a sad dad like you.”
So my hat gathers dust on the top shelf,
and it only gets worn when I’m by myself
in front of the mirror, when I realise the truth …
It takes more than a hat to go back to your youth.
PHOTO: The author ranting in a hat, Write Out Loud Sale 2013.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: This poem was written during a workshop at Macclesfield Writers’ Group, where the stimulus was “an item of clothing.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Mark Rawlins is a grumpy old git who is currently undergoing his third mid-life crisis. He writes and performs poetry in order to vent his anger and frustrations. He has performed his rhyming rants at poetry slams, open mic events, and anywhere else where they’ll let him, across the North West of England and beyond.