Oh love of shoe. He have love of shoe. White bucks.
Black pumps. Shoes for peace. Shoes for industry.
He watch shoe of women walking to work. He love the
secretary shoe. The shoe have the good sense. It bet
on Native Dancer. It play the shoe horn. The shoe be
no-nonsense.
He love the no-nonsense shoe. It know when to put the
foot down. It be up-front. It stand on own two feet.
It wear the eyeglasses and go to Vassar on
scholarship.
No-nonsense she have the degree in Art History and
work in the insurance agency.
Oh he want to free her to dance the light fantastic.
He want to show her the Tintoretto.
Oh the shoe. The love of shoe that stumble when she
hurt when she lose the dream. She want the rhinestone
clip-ons and the spike heel. She want the staccato of
her heel in the Spanish cabaret, the taffeta skirt at
the ankle, the eye on the foot
Yes, yes.
Yes.
He take her home to the project. He clean the
kitchen. He empty the ash tray. He straighten the
sheet and the pillowcase.
This be it.
He take her to the exclusive salon. The polish. The
streamline. The work up whittle down like the
35-year-old divorcee from Palm Springs.
He make the satin curtain. He make the fur rug for her
to sleep. Oh the love of shoe.
Boot servant. I be your boot servant. I love your thin
hot spikes. Walk on my chest.
He take off the glasses. She throw back the chair. He
rip off the shirt. She get out the black gloves
Walk on my chest.
She grind her pointed black toe on the sternum. He
gasp with pain. Tell me what it feel like to be ugly.
The no-nonsense shoe. The shoe with no magic. Tell me
how I give you magic.
I love to see you moan. She hiss. I kick you in the
face. I owe you everything. I devour you. I walk on
your chest.
Oh the shoe.
Oh the shoe.
Oh the love of shoe.
Oh the love of shoe oh.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh.
Ohhhhhhhhh. The Tintorettos. The Boticellis. The
dainty dreams of the art history major. The ivory
tower. The Rapunzel Complex.
She learn the power to undo the laces. She kick out
the jams. She light the candle and she know the curse.
Daily he falls in love of shoe. They line the closet
in the neat row. They be separate by color and date.
He know the mission. He liberate the shoe from the
constraints of the conventional morality. He
understand their baseness. It be OK.
