frankenshoes

Your shoes
are made
of cut up chunks
of crushed critters dumped by the interstate
and hung
together with baling wire, all
furs
fleas
and fingernails
and broken teeth
They are of no specific species.
They are a
coalition of sinews.
A machine that produces nothing but
footsteps leading nowhere

Your pocketbook
is made
of ground out skulls
and the leather not used in a lampshade you
fashioned from the flesh
and broke from the bone
of the class traitor once classed
as one of your own.
Because they couldn’t
adapt to the language,
or swallow the undrinkable discourse
Or they held an unlabeled
privilege
which didn’t exist
‘til you named it.

Your necklace
is carved
from the moldering
stones
that lay on the tombs that
pave your highway.
The crypts of the men you exalted
to live, but chose not to live as
your proof of concept
So you killed them straight up in public
and claimed that
you were the victim,
because no-one ever questions a victim
as long as they comply
to the narrative.

I love your shoes,
your shoes,
your frankenshoes

This entry was published on 12/08/2017 at 3:39 am and is filed under Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

4 thoughts on “frankenshoes

  1. Here you are, back in the saddle, assigning but not maligning;
    volatile when mixed and mingled, kindled with a single spark;
    a first volley is fired… The last to settle is the bastard wing,
    adjusted mettle, allowing to settle; just a jaunt in the park.

    Sorry for breaking out in rhyme. I was just excited to see you.
    Great poem, Seb!

  2. As always, your poetry evokes emotion and leaves the reader without breath. The poem’s stiletto style pairs with the stomping of frankenshoes to stab out a statement both social and political. I would expect nothing less from you. -IB

  3. What morbid, leatherface, imagery here Seb. The tone is macabre and yet your description of the frankenshoes are seem fashioned for haute couture. Hmm, do you suppose Lady Gaga wore frakenshoes when she decided to raid a butchers meat locker for her ensemble to the 2010 MTV video music awards? For that matter, what does one do with such attire? Barbecue? 😏 Then again this is my first read. I typically have a different take on your writings upon subsequent readings…the best part of your writings imo. 😊😉

  4. I miss you, Seb.

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