I knit myself a sweater out of steel
in knotty mesh of chain link irony.
Entwining my protection had appeal,
but that apparel had no room for me
to stretch an arm or add a bit of length,
and it took heavy blocking to fit right.

So I, more bound than sheltered by its strength,
forsook that garb and looked for something light
enough to let me move my limbs with ease,
and pliable enough to fit new form.
For I will move my muscles where they please
me most to go, and that’ll keep me warm.

Unblocked my new apparel has to be,
and made without the crimps of irony.