to boot

he brogued my ballet slipper reverie
how my tongue lolled
hot hot hot
that mocassin fall summer
i looked at Mary-Jane
she gave me the boot
i laced myself up
whilst he loafed passed all suede
what could i wear to go with those
– my pig skin calf boots

A.H (1st December 2020)

another workshop poem, the theme of shoes and an experience reversed and played with.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.