Feet
FEET
When I hear the tick, the gong
Too long?
Too short?
I mumble, “Too damn long!”
Cold feet, raw,
How they poke out
And not enough blood to withdraw
Hah! A marathon,
Kick the can, the dog, the football,
90 yard run!
They were always too big, with moles,
Too clumsy, too heavy,
In the 30s, that fat kid with paste-on, rubber soles
Wouldn’t it be just too intense –
Toe jam and all –
If they were the last thing sensed?
Dave Austin
Copyright © Daver Austin | Year Posted 2014
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