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‘Barefoot’
by
You can learn
a lot about
a person
by their shoes.
The home wrecker
with her snakeskin mini—
pathetically tall heels
ready to poke out
the wife’s suspicious eye.
The lawyer
with ebony Dolce and Gabbana’s.
Click click click
sir cockiness
down the tiled hallway.
The family of seven
with pastel Reeboks
squishing across the beach.
They couldn’t afford any sandals.
Mini Dorothy’s dolled up
with sparkles of the rainbow
all brand new;
A pair to match every outfit.
The lean apple eater
running off a spinach salad.
His tennies, one thousand miles and
counting
give way to the burning tar.
The village grandma
80 years washed and rung
wicker baskets full with
sheets that hold rich lovers.
Looking down
bunions, blackened brittle nails;
barefoot.
