New Shoe Blues

Tight no-leaker

sneakers with laces

starched parched and dry

a foot cage with

no age, no give

these shoes don't live

and breathe

I have to heave

my feet, to meet

the toe, no flow

no room

a dank foot tomb

Cause my favorite

soles had holes

and my laces had traces

of every tree climbed,

every grass cut

But! But! But!

I loved those shoes

of every hue

full of skids and glue

all from moments laced up

when running next with you

and yet now these

crocks are denying my socks,

and these nikes are way too tight

So I dive, and search

a dumpster for

any shoe that Herman Munster

could love a friendly foot glove

old and worn yet best when torn

not left forlorn

a home for bugs

beneath some rug unloved.

So, I've got

the new shoe blues

but hey, look here!

A scuff a tear

a skid mark here

and a little hole

there and who knows

give it a year

and I'll have the

New

Shoe

Blues