All Stars

Don’t you see the skip of my jolly heels, skipping about the globe while planting stars? Ask then from mother earth what joy she feels When my rubber sole and her corners spar. In offices, they don brogues and loafers, See me jolly hop with sparkled laces. My Chuck 70’s turn suits to gophers, Gentlemen grimace and grow grey faces. I know jealous jugs of beer that will spill and stink my Converse in bars and taverns. Yet the canvas skin won’t break for their swill, For it has walked over hills and caverns. In churches and pews, I dance all the tunes, Hear the slide of my foot to the insoles. While priests return bibles for forks and spoons, I hear sermons from the trips of my soles. My All Stars have walked a callous journey From my little foot to my huge footprint. I don mine in king beds and in gurneys, This shoe that has become my life’s blueprint.