a city boy's guide to the south

Welcome, friend, to the ramblings of a southerner by choice.

Saturday, June 04, 2005

Shoe Fly Pie

I was angry with shoes. I would walk
in the secular meadow, watch rivulets
churn the red earth into chasms.

My cold thighs would shunt
butterflies aside.

There, in the stream, striders
feast gaily upon the remains
of damped insects. I kick

one grey carcass, a crawfish dead lately
into slow waters; it sinks.
Gives up its cargo:

A spatter of houseflies heels
to the surface, beetles
flock to this meat.

Those pattern-toe sandals you left
in my care,
find their way to the water.

1 comment:

didi said...

I like shoe poems.