Well-Heeled

My bowling shoes

are made of glass,

for all that I’m not dancing.

And glitzy halls,

throw bowling balls,

since princes lack financing.

To compensate

for cent-less state,

I burglarize my closet

—ripping any

loafers penny—

to pad my bank deposit.

Still brogues are vogue

and platforms chic,

my pumps remain the newest…

‘My espadrilles

are decked with quills,

and tip wing-toes the truest…

Abating bane

of heels arcane,

found to plague Achilles,

with Piggy loft

all bets are off—

’cause flying pigs are silly

But heel-clicking

* steel-tipping *

flip-flops shaded ruby?

Now those are kicks

with useful tricks!

At least in famous movie.

Yes, blue suede boots

have walked the walk

my clogging days gymnastic…

But nowadays

it’s Mary Janes,

that trip the light fantastic.