Sometimes I forget that I'm the bomb. Life knocks me down. People get in my way. Recessions leave me feeling powerless. When I feel this way, I just look down. At my shoes. My shoes are really awesome. My shoes elongate my full 6'3" frame and make me hold my chin parallel to the ground, reminding me to walk tall with certainty and determination.
My shoes kick balls from the boardroom to the barroom and step on minions who dare cross my path. My shoes help me to articulate. They help me trump adversaries. My shoes say, "don't fuck with me, I'll tread all over you."
I grow out of my shoes like a lotus flower from a lilly pad.
My sleds rock boxes, kick foxes, make you wonder who the pimp without the socks is.
From the leather soles of Harris, through the thread of Prada, tied with laces by Gabanna, don't FUCK with my shoes.
1 comment:
you should perform this dramatically at a spoken word event...wearing your dolces with shorts
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