Thursday, 10 November 2016

sticky inner sole

i wrote a line poem
sometime back
a chronicle of my shoes
throughout my history

from the:

winter 2001 ~ retail therapy: i wanted to pierce my belly.
the lady who punctures, had the day off. instead, i
bought a pair of black, silver-studded, four inch heeled,
chunky boots. i never got the piercing -- settled for a tattoo.”

to their untimely demise
at the start of my daughters
sk graduation ceremony

to shorten an extended story
prior to the celebration
a bunch of proud parents
congregated to discuss
their children's potential 
future careers

nevertheless i wasn't
able to support myself
as i walked towards the auditorium
-- the bottom part of the sole
had quickly become unhinged
like that creepy basement
door no one wants to deal
with -- near the toes decided
flap open

as i walked
i felt like a duck
with a gaping beak
there were very few
situations that presented
themselves for this type
of fast thinking

while i tried to walk
sliding my right foot behind
me as to reveal
my nearly open
studded beautiful 
black boot 

luckily there were
packages of bubble
gum all laid out for us
-- i think i might have grabbed
two packages to completely
temporarily seal my FAVOURTIE
boots

finally i was able to stabilize
the sole -- the only issue
was while i sat in the audience trying
to nonchalantly seal my boots
-- i was met by the thought
of what if the mayor
to the right side of me
a few chairs down
saw what i was doing
-- if he did oh well
that's how the
shoe laces

sometimes...