Watching the playoffs as he irons
A clean white shirt
Downy fresh out of the dryer
Crisp and starched
To go with his black merino wool suit
Cordovan wing tips tied perfectly
With black silk socks
Aromatic masculine cologne is just the touch
That completes the look, the style
For tall, ocean eyed, handsome Cousin Alexander
Who feels Arizonans should dress like adults
Bemoaning his time spent in the “Valley of Sun”
Instead of the “Big Apple”
Culture shock doesn’t adequately explain his surprise
He’s a transplant from another place, another time
Not only another state or town
A time when grace and dignity exuded masculinity
And clothes made the man
And men owned their clothes
A writer’s brain on high alert
In various stages of photographic observation
Of minute details…
One needs a cowboy hat for focus
Reminding Alex
He’s not a transplanted New Yorker
Living in Arizona
He’s a Manhattan Cowboy
Because…
All rights reserved. ©2010 by Sara Fryd