Things is pickin’ up as most folks knows,
So I sent to town fer to git new clo’es.
Some onderwear and a big hat box,
A couple of shirts and a passel of socks.
Some overalls and other truck,
Three red bandannys throwed in fer luck.
My boots aint new but they’ll do right well,
I reckon I’ll make them last a spell.
I’ll be the pride of the whole derned spread.
With a fust class Stetson on my head.
A bran new slicker tied on behind—
It’s strange how yore clo’se improves your mind.
Nice new clo’es purtects the hide
And sorter contents a man inside.
Clo’es does a heap toward makin’ the man.
Try goin’ without and you’ll onderstand.
(Bruce Kiskaddon)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, Mind Poems, Fate & Destiny Poems, Pride PoemsBased on Keywords: pickin, bran, sorter, throwed, aint, overalls, clo, fust, improves, makin, behind-