A Poem About Sagging                   [Part 3 of my Male Topic Trilogy] 


An original poem by Chrome Dome Mike Kimbro


Please read along to my Spoken Verse Performance.





Listen up,


Listen up,


Listen up to what's happening.



I've got news.


I've got news.


And it deserves examining.





When buying a pair of pants these days,


Consider that there are a couple of ways,


To decide on the length of the inseam.



While those who are cool will say: "Why bother?"


Most will avoid what we call 'high water'.


So they start with a length that's extreme.





Bunching round the ankles is how excesses,


Are handled by cow pokes down in Texas.


And it takes less time than the alternative.



Rolling up cuffs is much more old school.


In fact, examples these days are minuscule.


But some find another way quite superlative.



Yeah, to let pants hang off the ass.





It's a drag.


It's a drag.


It's a drag when pants shrink up.


Let them sag.


Let them sag.


Let them sag. Yeah, that's 'what's up'.





At the thrift shop, perusing the men's section.


Check it out, from Louis Vuitton's collection!


But dang, those pants are a few inches too short.



My friend said: "No way." Then, before I could blink,


He took those stylish pants. Then said with a wink:


"Your loss is my gain! When will you learn, sport?"





Down on the hips, is the style that we amore.


And why not, since shirts aren't tucked in anymore.


Bring a jacket, for a bit more modesty.



But gentlemen who I am celebrating,


Are not afraid of a little berating,


By those who are slaves to orthodoxy.





Danggit, Mom!


You did it again.


Went and washed my best pants on hot.


Then dried them on the high setting.



That's OK, Mom.


Good thing that I'm thin.


Helps make the most of the pants I've got.


Still, I expect a new pair, I'll be getting.





It's a thang.


It's a thang.


It's a thang that's growing fast.


Let them hang.


Let them hang.


Let them hang off of your ass.





An admissions rep from the Ivy League,


Replied to my request, making me grieve:


"Your class has filled up, excessively."



I got up to leave, revealing "Fruit of the Loom".


She said: "On second glance, there might be room,


For a young man who lives life expressively."





Those born with an embarrassment of riches,


Might not ponder the merriment of britches.


Until the sun stops shining, financially.



Then, as inseam shrinkage is out of control,


If those poor souls can learn a new way to roll,


Their sense of self will increase, substantially.





Some say stuff needs to be protested.


Can't stay home, when my friends all go.


Daddy said: "Stick out, and you'll get arrested."


So I'm sagging, yeah I'll blend in. Yo!





I meant my message not to be demeaning.


Hey, unless one shells out for dry cleaning,


All pants will draw up an inch or two or three.



The optimal way to deal with drawn up drawers,


Will likely be rejected by 'dinosaurs'.


Who suffer from hang ups, unlike you and me.





I'm sure you've wondered why I've made no mention,


Of sagging's effect on female attention.


Ask them yourself and you'll find that "some girls do."



Before 'going all in' on lower waistlines,


Let your new look receive a little face time,


Across town, to learn if sagging's right for you.





Let them sag.


Let them sag.


Let them sag. Yeah, that's 'fi-shore'.


Get the love.


Get the love.


Get the love that you wish for.



The End



Copyright Michael Kimbro 2020.  All rights reserved.