Gene McCormick- A Poem & Art

Barefoot In The Streets

1.

Almost all the socks in the drawer

are variants of tan, beige, or taupe,

light and dark but never with a

distinct pattern, and never, ever argyle.

But on this day his feet were bare.

2.

The new loafers fit too large.

Walking along the sidewalk

the loafer on his right foot slips off,

then, not more than five steps further,

his left shoe comes off.

What the hell?

3.

A city bus passes on the other side

of the street, empty except for a driver

who shakes his head at the man

hobbling along the uneven, hot sidewalk,

noting that he has left his shoes behind

and seems to have no obvious intention

of retrieving them.

The bus pulls away with a hiss of the brakes.

The driver has seen it all before.

What the hell, indeed.

Barefoot, the man could not keep pace with

the bus; he couldn’t even if he wore shoes.

Of course, he wasn’t trying to.

4.

Stepping over curbs is a big challenge

walking shoeless through the city as

the bottoms of his feet are not calloused

or rough to any degree, as, say, a dog’s

might be. They are smooth.

Trash, soggy debris and worse coagulate

along the curbs and grates, best not

stepped on.

5.

Arriving at the destination his feet

begin to cool on the marble foyer.

It’s just as well he isn’t wearing socks.