i'm that coat

and always has been
a cold throat lump sore
straight like a jaw
or a finger plugged tide

the hookless hang keeps me
endless with juice shaking
arms to my teeth coughing
no fallout

could have been hat
but that was youth walking
every dad that kin talk  
hawks humility tales

admitting sans interupt
i'd be blank as tea bag
think not i don't flag
the wave that waves me up

i ought paint my clouds white
toss remote, hack the juice
kiss sleeping sound night once
but i make one more round

blame my bender on my gender 
if it's soothing you but . . .
i'm that coat always will be
that coat