Dazzling

That Style Forgot

I was little in the context
of a burnt orange kitchen,
geometric curtains,
a clock with sun rays,
a beige and brown lounge,
lime green lampshades
and wallpaper from hell.

Enter elephant flares,
clunky cork platforms,
ties wide as kites,
huge pointy collars,
bad paisley blouses,
tan safari suits
and porn star moustaches.

It was my smaller world, novel
and orange, pants flared,
and prog rock blaring
from my older brother, whose hair
was a sleek blonde curtain.
My father wore socks
under sandals, and that
was my view of the world.