Laces tout
Laces tout
another pair bought
all tied up
said I'd stop.
Break them in
painful feet
new shoes on
no one to meet.
Bold logos gone
it feels right
not a single marketing
piece in sight.
Stacked up high
worn down low
my map is full
of places to go.
Laces tout
all tied up
another pair bought
said I'd stop.
How many pairs do you own?
If I tell you,
will you leave me alone?
Depends how many?
Is it a lot?
I don’t know the number,
must have forgot.
Surely someone like you should know?
Alright, I’ve got about 10 on the go.
I use to have an excel sheet,
But tracking my consumption made me weap.
Still not heard a number,
just words and cries,
If I gave you a number I would despise,
myself for owning so many shoes,
my fragile ego it would bruise,
so please,
don’t ask me any more.
Goodness gracious what a bore.
Then a bore I’ll be,
I’ve only got one pair can’t you see,
they’re currently tied up on my feet.
Do you feel complete?
What do you mean?
Complete.
Huh?
Finished.
No I wouldn't say so. Do you?
I don't think so.
How can you tell?
That's a good point.
We're not even thirty.
Are people complete at thirty?
I don't think so. People have meltdowns at thirty.
People are always having meltdowns.
Not like the ones you get at thirty.
How would you know? You're 24.
I've seen them. On the train, the supermarkets, you can see it in their eyes.
So now you're a meltdown expert?
No. It's just obvious.
Look at that man over there.
Which one?
The guy with the denim hat. Does he look happy to you?
Sure. Yeah he does.
Look closer.
I don't want to get up though.
Not like that silly, with your eyes. Really look.
Hmm he's wearing velcro shoes.
And?
And that means he's a man child.
No.
Okay what does it mean then Mr meltdown.
It means he's in pain.
Righhhht. And how did you come to that conclusion?
Well, no one loved him enough to tell him how to tie his shoes when he was younger.
Because he has velcro shoes?
Yeh, and when he puts on his shoes he is instantly reminded of his childhood loneliness.
I think you're reaching.
I don't think I am. Does anyone you know own velcro shoes in your life?
Not that I can think of. Oh wait, my grandpa used to have velcro shoes.
Well there you go.
What do you mean, there you go? He had arthritis.
So he was in pain.
I mean I guess.
And therefore he was unhappy.
No. He was unhappy at times because he missed my grandma.
Either way. He was in pain and he wore velcro shoes.
There is no correlation.
That's what he wanted you to think.
Right, so all kids wearing velcro shoes are unhappy too are they?
Yep.
Now you are lost. They just haven't learnt yet.
Learnt what?
Learned how to tie their own shoes.
Because?
Because they're too young.
You can never be too young to tie your shoes.
Says who?
Einstein.
Now I know you're lying.
He learnt to tie his shoes at two months old.
So he was baby wearing shoe laces. Lies.
No lies here m'dear.
Everyone knows Einstein was chronically sad though.
I didn't.
Well now you do Mr Velcro shoes.
I would never have been able to tell with his tied shoes.
Great.
More to the point. Where are your laces?
I don't want to talk about it.
Everywhere you look, shoes are left to their demise. A universal sign of emptiness. Sat in a shop window. Sat by the front door. A pair to pop the to shops in. Knock about the house in. Take the bins out in. Kicked off in the heat of the moment. Dangling from a tree. A rite of a passage. Waiting for repair. Caught in a mosh pit. An impatient child. Lost by someone equally as lost. An angry ex. Too far gone. Too soggy for indoors. A drunken night out. A prank gone wrong. Unwanted waste. All without an owner. Unfinished stories. Open endings strewn across the floor.
A banana flavoured shoe
Would be an odd thing make.
Next thing you know
there'd be a shoe-favoured cake.
Banana-shaped and yellow
for the most quirky of fellows,
To lace them up around their feet,
The air around them would smell so sweet.
If you're a fan of yellow fruit,
and want to swap out your pair of old boots,
then by all means you should cop
when all the big brands next drop
a banana-themed and flavoured shoe
to show your friends who haven't a clue
that you really know what's hip and cool
Or that you're not a wannabe fool
So give these yellow trainers a feel
Don't let them convince you it's just the peel,
Because if you listen to what they say
You'll only wear them for the day
And in the compost they will go,
Biodegrading, losing their glow,
Cause they actually had great sex appeal,
Those shoes that looked like banana peel.
"I bet you couldn't walk
a mile in these shoes",
How would you know?
Ain't got the faintest of clues.
The dribs and drabs
of my daily life,
the seething pains
and never ending strife.
Yet I'll lace them up anyway,
cause I've got bills and rent to pay.
Not only that
but I've got people to see
that's the difference
between you and me.
Sure yours are shiny
and haven't a crease,
but I'll still be wearing my shoes
when I'm deceased.
I won't pass them on
they're mine to bear,
I'll be sure to look after them,
they're my only pair.
wear shoes, write poems 