DON’T, unless, when you’re wearing them, you want stray cats
following you down the street, to start a riot walking by a weight
watchers’ meeting, to have those around you at concerts or the ballet
all chip in to buy your season ticket from you, to have strange,
pudgy little chefs making passes at you, to have to stay indoors on
hot days, to have your mate’s playful little love nips slide from
your neck to your elbow -and - get hate notes on your dry cleaning
translation: drop that advisor from your ‘buddy list’.