My mom thinks Ben would go beserk for the men's clothes.
skinny suits and swanky shoes.
The sailors in the sea-salted satin
fresh from Florence.
The thin bright ties like lemon yellow lightning
zapping ya like lemon juice to the eye, and
that hurts! But it's fashion.
They'd clamber up the ratlines
to the catwalk
(all Italian shipping has a catwalk, not a crow's nest, that's the Truth)
the sailors lanky, knit, thin like bendy straws, their garnet cuff links burnished sailor fashion.
Too, Ben would go literally Ape You Know what
for the foot-casings, gleaming steel black polished shoes
that you buy with socks, just so you can throw the socks away.
When you buy a chrome silver sun-blinding Pagani Zonda C12 you don't get in a BODY SOCK
before you drive it
that would ruin the LINES.
Thus with the shoes.
They're supercars, submarines, musclemen, thoroughbreds, passionate,
prayers, cries, drools,
these shoes, each pair a nod to God.
Says my mom.
if you see him.
Say these words verbatim
so he'll know he should obtain those clothes.