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g clair
Poems
Mar 2014
No Returns!
He bought them from his cousin
they were shiny black and new
the man was doing business
and at a fair price too.
Well they looked like patent leather
reflecting back, he smiles
he wore them out to church
and had put on several miles.
One day the skies grew darker
and the rain began to splatter
the drops absorbed into the shoes
well not a sight was sadder
For the shoes were made of paper
and his cousin bought the stock
from a man who made his livin'
shoeing feet that used to walk.
The business had been slowing
at God's Shoe store for the Saints
though reports were never glowing
he rarely got complaints.
I am told my father's cousin
owned a bar on Irving Street
and fitted many customers
while they still had living feet.
Many of the regulars
brought back their soggy shoes
I am sorry but there's no returns
can I pour you up some *****?
True Story about a pair of shoes by father once bought once from his cousin at a bar in Jersey City.
Written by
g clair
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