Designer Shoes

Designer Shoes

 

 

More than water and glass

the pain supersedes everything,

eating the apple core

and the center,

decay;

the deep eyes

of a strange woman.

 

Passing means nothing

but satisfaction,

a small grin

or looking at the ground.

 

Sometimes a nickel

or two.

 

Spending time

at a bar downtown,

one that specializes

in women like her,

slightly counterproductive;

like megaphoning a mistake,

or a flaw.

 

But pleased to do so.

 

Since the drinks are free,

and the women who pass

only notice

her designer shoes.

Reviews

[Georgiakevin]

Your poem brings out another challenge for women who are transsexual that unless you are part of this world you couldn't possibly understand the pain or the triumphs. Your poem gave a glimpse of both. Well written.