at the Hop

Sometimes you’re out and about

and you see a shoe

–a single shoe, just lying there

and you gotta wonder. . .

how do you lose one shoe?

(is it a leftie or a rightie?)

Is the world full of Cinderellas running late?

In the case of the errant flip-flop on beach trails

it’s a Sanderella souvenir

(or Sunderella. . .or even Finderella)

a one-off from a mermaid with shore leave

rushing to return to the briny depths before 12 bells

–sun-bleached beach attire strewn behind her,

dune buggy just a shell of its time-sensitive chassis–

but what about the Converse sneaker?

(not those laced & paired over hi-voltage wires above)

the singleton. . .

what’s the story there?

Is that a Shirts and Skin-derella story?

a ballplayer just dying for a pick-up game

who shoots, scores, unlaces, and bolts before the buzzer?

seems unlikely. . .

but then, losing one shoe seems something hard to miss at POS.

Then there’s the work boot you sometimes see,

Clearly a “Done-derella” story

a: that clock couldn’t chime 5 times quick enough

“take-your-job-and-your-mandatory-attire and hit the bricks” classic

–shredded blue collar cut from the neck

it squeezed somewhere in the vicinity—

I’m just sayin’. . .

you never see a glass stiletto just

lying there as you’re toolin’ around town

–not unless you live near Hollywood & Vine.