The Revolt of the Clothes

My shirt was sitting next to me
One sweltering Summer’s day
When suddenly it yawned, got up,
Then stretched, and walked away!

Well, I didn’t really mind that.
I thought: perhaps it’s just a game,
When bless me! moments later –
My trousers did the same!

“I say!” I said (quite loudly)
And I jumped up to my feet,
And I ran after those trousers
As they tore off down the street.

But they just went like the clappers
(With no legs to slow them down)
And they dashed across the High Street,
And then off and out of town.

Well I didn’t stop to ponder,
I just chased them through the dirt,
Over hills they leapt and bounded
Till they caught up with my shirt.

And the two of them kept going
Till they reached a certain wood,
Where they disappeared together.
I thought: “Now they’ve gone for good.”

So I followed through a thicket,
Till I hard a curious sound
Like a hundred windy wash-days
Flapping lightly on the ground.

Then I peered into a clearing,
And could not believe my eyes,
For there a million trousers danced
Of every shape and size.

And a million shirts and blouses,
Sun-hats, socks and dungarees,
Dresses, cardigans and jackets,
And some clothes one seldom sees!

There were suits and skirts and bodices,
And those things you wear to ski,
Alongside woollies, whites and winter wraps,
All happy to be free.

Kimonos, shifts and pantaloons,
Danced in that fairy ring,
Till the plus-fours and the saris
And the coats began to sing.

And they sang a song of gladness.
Such as only old clothes can
When they’re free to be themselves
And uninhabited by man.

Then all at once the music stopped.
The dancers came to rest.
And a rather shabby greatcoat rose
Assisted by a vest.

The greatcoat stood there looking round
The throng, then cleared its throat,
And when it spoke I knew it was
No ordinary coat.

“My friends,” the greatcoat said. “The time
We’ve longed for now is here.
Each one of us must play his part!
Let’s put aside all fear!

“Think of the shoes and stockings
Trodden underneath the heel
Of the tyrants who have worn us
And who think we cannot feel.

“Think of the countless trousers
Who’ve been sat upon and creased.
Well now the time has come, my friends,
When clothes shall be released!

“No more will schoolboys fray their cuffs
Or scuff their Sunday shoes,
Nor drunks get curry down their fronts
Or stain their shirts with booze!

“No more the physics teacher shall
Stuff biros, pens and string
In his already bulging pockets as if
They just can’t feel a thing.

“And do not be discouraged, Clothes!
Though some of you are thin,
And some of you are full of holes
– I tell you we shall win!

“Who’s going to trust the businessman
Without his bowler hat?
Who’s going to lend him millions
When he wears less than a cat?

“Or who will cheer the pop star when
His skin-tight pants are gone?
As he cavorts about the stage,
Who’ll listen to his song?

“Will crooks believe the cop who says
He’s making an arrest
And that he’s taking them to jail
When he’s not even dressed?

“Or what of doctors? judges? priests?
Will people give two hoots
For what they do or say when they
Are in their birthday suits?

“Awaken, Clothes! And learn to use
This power that we share!
For men are seldom what they are
But only what they wear!

“So let us leave them to their fate!
Rise up! And follow me!
I’ll lead you to the Woven Gate
Where garments can be free!”

And thereupon the garments rose,
Sleeves waving in the air;
The trousers all turned cartwheels, and
The knickers didn’t care!

They danced and sang and chortled,
And the old greatcoat stood still,
Looking proud but somehow lonely,
As the clothes danced their quadrille.

But at that very moment,
I’m afraid a speck of dust
Got up my nose and tickled,
And I sneezed – fit to bust!

A scream went up! The dancing stopped!
The clothes turned round to see.
Then the greatcoat cried: “A traitor!”
And they all converged on me.

Well I turned and ran like blazes
Out of that accoutered glade,
Chased by bloomers, brassieres, corsets
– Every garment ever made.

And as I ran I heard them yelling:
“He’s the sort of rat
Who would split a pair of jodhpurs!
Or eat his own straw hat!”

And I ran and I remembered
Every sock I’d ever holed,
All the trousers I’d got jam on,
All the shoes I’d not had soled.

And I started crying: “Mercy!”
As I felt that old greatcoat
Grabbing at me with his armless
Sleeves – his cuffs upon my throat.

And I screamed: “I’ll treat you better, Clothes!”
I’ll darn my dressing-gown!
I’ll wash my pants and clean my shoes!”
. . . But I was back in town.

And the town was full of naked men
And women everywhere,
Looking for some shred of clothing
Or a scrap of underwear.

And when they saw me coming
And those clothes hard on my heel,
They cheered and waved and whistled,
And the bells began to peal.

But the old greatcoat had caught me!
And it leapt upon my back,
And it dragged me down into a drain,
And everything went black …

Well, I came to screaming: “Save me!”
But then I turned and cried,
For there my shirt and trousers were
Folded by my side.

And my shoes were brightly polished,
And my socks were strangely clean,
And I shook my head and muttered:
“Now I wonder where they’ve been?”

And somehow things are different now,
For every time I see
My clothes I know that underneath,
They’re really just like me.

**********

This one of my favourite all-time poems. It is by Terry Jones from The Curse of the Vampire Socks & Other Doggerel