Before that
I had gone to the nation of new
where the roads which way were piles
shambled and on the rise
I never thought of my bare feet
only combed the streetside
full of steam and vendor boil
some still alive and on display for it
hawking the wrong
i ate and ate
mostly still, long still, mouthfuls
But my feet and nails shined soft
began to hamper at the wrong
began to think of a future
among it all
I dropped the dish in hand
and hurried to the cart on the threshold hill
with already clotted peasant shoes
bought a pair lined black and too hot
apr 16 2011
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