Thursday, September 3, 2009

Abandoned Shoe

As the Labor Day weekend approaches, I find myself gearing up to flaunt my albino office-worker flesh at the beach. The SPF 5,000 is packed away, and I’m ready to squish my toes in some sand and listen to the murmur of the waves. Relaxation beckons.

But that’s not the real point of this post. That is not it at all.

The point is this. My upcoming trip to the beach reminded me of something. Once upon a time, while driving to the beach, I passed a solitary shoe on the side of the road. I was troubled by this lone piece of footwear. I wondered what its story might be. And I was compelled to write the following poem.

Abandoned Shoe

You look so
So dejected
On the side of the road.

Sun-baked, weary
And filled with longing
But far too proud to tell.

You’ve lost…
Lost your mate

And she’s found solace
With a moron
In the cramped backseat
Of a rusted-out old Camaro.

It’s a small world, brother
Because I had a girl
That did the same damn thing.


  1. hell you a poet too boy, really good, makes me wanna go to the beach.

  2. Hi, Bob. Yep, I have to post them once in a while. You know with the whole "Poetry" section on my blog and all.

  3. Ah yes, sunshine. I too am planning a day at the beach this hot weekend, before I wake up one day to snow and five months of growling. :)

    With me and shoes, I'm always wondering who the hell ties those rogue sneakers you see all over the place, on overhead power lines and how do they get up there?

    Your poem made me laugh. Those whorey shoes in the back seats of Camaros.

  4. Hey Hunter! Thanks for checking out my blog! I'll definitely be following yours.

  5. Still laughing at "albino office-worker flesh" but good poem too!

  6. Hi, VA! Fancy seeing you over here. If I'd have known you were swinging by, I might have at least vacuumed or something. Glad you liked the poem.

    Hipstercrite, thanks for swinging by and the follow. Sorry for the obscure Kids in the Hall quote on your blog, but with your recent post and all, I thought at least you would get it. Anyway, welcome!

    Hi Charlene, I can assure you that the "albino office-worker flesh" description is fitting.

  7. Can I have my shoe back please? LOL Hunter, I always look forward to when you post and you never let me down. Great poem. Great way to start the morning, with a good laugh.

  8. Hi, Mike. Glad you liked it. (But I'm keeping the shoe!)

  9. I finally found time to check out this week's other MLS winners and I damn glad I did! I liked it here so much that I've followed you, blogrolled you and added you to my g-reader. When you call the courthouse, press "9" for restraining orders.

    Have fun at the beach!

  10. Hi, Gwen. So, now that I've put the courthouse on speed-dial, welcome! ;)

    I'm really glad that you stopped by and found something you enjoy. I loved "Loophole in my Laptop" and I'm following you as well...

  11. Oh my goodness! This post is so funny! I drive about 27 kilometers to and from work each day. And nearly every day I see a different lone shoe on the side of the road. Last year alone I counted 273 different 'lone' shoes. I always wondered how that happened. I've even seen several 'evening' shoes. I'm happy to hear I'm not the only one who's noticed this phenomenon!

    Btw, yeah ... totally buzzed over from Mr London Street!

  12. Hi, SweetPea. All those shoes missing their partners, it's weird right? Welcome!

  13. This is great--reminds me of a Beat poem, especially for some reason, Gregory Corso. Seriously, I like it.

  14. Hi, Leah. I'm certainly a fan of the Beats, so thank you!

  15. Excellent poem, I'm partial to a bit of poetry myself!

    It's even sadder when it's a baby shoe. or a tiny little sock.