some resourceful soul, in LA, I think,
recycles cotton t-shirts worn by boys in the clink
all that masculine sweat (plus, we imagine, blood and tears)
renders the fabric softer than a kitten’s ears
reformed into delicate textured dresses
(after being thoroughly scrubbed of their inevitable messes)
selling for more than a prison song in an eco store
their origins add a sense of edge to couture
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