“I’ve Broke Down…”

Yes.

I have to admit failure.

Again.

Nothing new there, right?

I’ve crafted careers on climbing back downhill:

familiar bruises, old-friend scrapes:

oh – that’s where I found this new ache!

Had me there – I’d forgotten that escapade.

I hate – just three full turns past detest – shoes.

Only one thing worse:

shopping for shoes.

Okay.

Two things worse.

Shoeshopping

and new sandals buying too!

There!

I’ve admitted my horror.

My worst.  My absolute engulfment

in cold-sweats and saliva-drying,

lip-cracking eyeball dehydrating fear.

And, then it happens:

My last beach-sandle goes beyond.

No longer fixable.

No longer ignorable.

No longer within a half-county

of level with the other reprobate

that struggles on and continues to give me curse

words I’ve never heard before

and hope never again or at least not so soon.

My holy unfornicating diety!

That Much?  How did prices

skyrocket so?

Oh, wait! Here’s a five-smacker tag

on the backside of these thong-flops…

get two?

Maybe we’re make a pair of years out of them?

And still have the skeletons for inside stuff.

Now, the tenni-pumps:

Hey! I take back the terrible words I went

and wrote about God needing glasses:

Twelve bucks Fifty for these pieces of slime

that have served me near year

and are so thin at-sole

I must go to mass each half-block

to make sure I have not to use

the Duct Tape (Duck Tape, actually)

I stashed low in the photo bag because…

I know.  And I know I know and you get that picture.

No way.

Next up: the 15-buck choice:

Thank Dog

I’ve got snake boots – two pairs – gifts

but even then I had to go with them to the store

and try them on.

Devastating.

I could barely get the next nineteen beers untwisted

because of the emo-trauma of that experience.

Got an unworn pair of Bass Weejuns

and two worn pairs of same

but I unspect

the earlier two are from when

I had human feet.

And, oh, yes: formal wing tips and

WHAT! two sets of Florshimes?

(be that their spelling….I gotta clean closet

and if I’m smart move in there and let the shoes

take hold elsewhere.

Anyone know a way to get new skivvies?

 

Go On, You Know You Want To

hate your neighbor, fine; kill your friend, you know you must: time to redraw maps! “One Tin Soldier” the song as theme to an over-worked Billy Jack movie that did no justice to the original Soldier of Fortune story which finally led to the second, more true to the original, film, inspired the first […]

via “Go Ahead, Hate Your Neighbor*” — richwrapper