Guest Shoe Poem by ChrisTweetie Bard: The little old shoe who lived in a woman

Thanks to two wonderful gentlemen ChrisTweetieBard and  Rick Morton my Blog Stats recorded 142 visitors on Monday 30 December 2009. For the first day of Advent, ChrisTweetieBard has written another shoe poem which he is happy to share with me. It is about dead people’s shoes, which (he says) are particularly poignant.  It also reminds me why I cannot bring myself to wear so-called vintage shoes that have belonged to other people.  Too many memories.

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To the extent that it lived

It had buckle that her juices ate for years

And let itself be wrapped around her insides.

Intestines and such – so well made that the corners didn’t dig

Into her innards but it’s vulgar

The way the tabloids went on when they got the x-rays

You’ve heard of scissors, scalpels. This was a size 8

A kind of pump and not cheap.  A left one. ‘Whose was it?’

Notice they used the past tense? Of course

There will be a full investigation in accordance with

Whatever.  But to live with a shoe in you

Was hard to believe.  For her I mean.

It isn’t sure precisely how long

And the surgeons are fruity voiced and believable.

She loved the shoe, kept it.

Had a right one made in its image.

When she walked down the street she looked at the corroded buckle

and thought of freedom.

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