Tag Archives: poetry
Six
(A poem about kindergarten that I wrote five years ago, when I was 17. Forgive the cheesiness, but this has to be on my blog.) Continue reading
elbows
shoeshine boy
the little boy stoops
next to your shoes,
holding a dirty rag
in his hand. why does he want
to clean your shoes
when they are mildewed, stitches coming
loose, seams on the verge of exposing
your feet like a national secret?
your new shoes were a waste
of money; they pinched your toes
until they turned blue. the old shoes begged
to be worn. you look into
the boy’s eyes. they ask
for truth but not mercy. you let him run
his rag over your feet and later
when he is gone, you bend down
to check the state of your shoes,
only to see them clean
like they have never been
used at all.
Ode to Outlook
you stage a vigil
at your desk,
where you bow
before the altar
of your screen.
you genuflect
with every press
of send/receive,
but there is nothing
new for you.