Feet
2008 July 8
My feet don’t get
no love from me
No rubs
No lotions
No sympathy
I walk all over
Them
to show who’s boss
They crack
they split
they carry the loss
I stuff them in
Shoes and open
doorways
Shuffle them left
wiggle them right
Walk on them sideways
Injun feet my mama
said
when I was child
barefooted ballerina,
daisy dancing
fool and wild
My feet don’t get
no love from me
callous and
malice
and command to flee
copyright 2008
Between your “Father’s day” post and this one you made me laugh and cry. I absolutely love the line…
barefooted ballerina,
daisy dancing
fool and wild
thank you, wayne, so kind of you to say. i rather like that line myself.
sarah
Okay. I give. Feet are literary.
You are the queen.
I bow to your literary genius.
Love,
J
oh darling girl, you miss the point – the poem honors your obsession.
love,
sarah
i like very much how you’ve written feet.
So much of ourselves do we take for granted but think, where would we be without feet?
That is what this piece made me think.
yes, i agree, where would we be without our feet – probably not dancing.
sarah
I have heel spurs. My feet don’t give me any love.
oh poor evyl – maybe you just aren’t dancing those feet enough?
sarah
Oh Wow! Wonderful. Gorgeous. A simple subject – overlooked by almost everyone – and made into a beautiful observation and an exotic dance…
thank you sumedh and welcome to my hideaway. despite what the poem says, i admit that my feet and i do have quite the love affair going on.
sarah