//Shoes//

Last time I visited seashore
I decided to change my shoes
As the swelling foam of the 
last returned waves dusted off the shoes
and cleaned off tiny stars
twinkling as a result of water spits
since I attended than last marriage reception.

Probably I have polished it 
regularly the first month of its
Journey from the showcase
to my shoe stand,
including the soles.

But the story is two years old.

I never imagined then that I would
One day completely try to remove the shoes 
from my mind. Even when,
two toad -couple tenants have made it their igloo
since the winter.

I knew the shoes are the better index of a man
than the man’s face.
It is what the homosexual class teacher 
taught us in the class room in the pre-schooling.

For last couple of months
A few days before the salary is received 
I usually make an unseen miscellaneous 
Calculation over the theme and tone of my sized shoes
I have seen form the other side of transparent glass
At a shoe house;
And strike out the whole note book
Right from the time some notes are pocketed as salary.

The bare needs to keep a home safe and intact
And the expenses to let m child grow
To a responsible citizen,
And the womanish perspectives of the spouse
Paint my shoes for a dream.

I still insist,
the shoe is a necessity,
Especially for an
Underground geography.
*******