left shoe, I think. Or was it in the sink;

bleached white, contrite, and dripping wet.

I think maybe I left it in the car,

down the street, by the legs,

strut-strutting down the walk

like the owner of the world.

In the car, with death in the speakers,

pumping and compelling my feet to dance

the gas and clutch like a marrionette.

With sunglasses on, the world is foot-loose;

the world is bloody and forlorn.

I hate the world, and my feet are tired,

I've been walking for so long, at work,

down the aisle. Beautiful old woman, dirty

old mind. Younger...still...

I have thoughts too...I lost my soul to the

barbi dolls, and to the goldfish sucking,

sucking at its cage.

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