Who says shoes can’t last forever?
When all purpose duct tape replaced the leather
The canvas decaying, the smooth rubber sole
What fun are big puddles when your shoes are whole?
Don’t give up on your footwear when they get thrashed
Salvage your sneakers from the maw of the trash.
Even when the laces can’t thread through the eyes
And even when the tread has reduced greatly in size
Remember your shoes are the greatest of friends
So do what you can to extend the end.
Archive for January 9, 1991
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A Small Purple Linear Stain
Posted: January 9, 1991 in PoetryTags: Dream, Eye, Fog, Pain, Rain, Scream, Sleep
I can’t help thinking what
I’ve done to make you scream
So loud, like that, that night;
It was so much a dream.
But when I woke from fog,
My face was moist with sleep.
My hands dug in the earth
To climb the mountain steep.
Embankments grey and high,
I felt the tracks of rain.
A snail has crossed my eyes
To salve the lines of pain.
[iambic trimeter, even!]
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