Shoes

Two ladies at the table next to mine

Were talking shoes. Oh, were they talking shoes.

From Louboutin to Keds to Calvin Kleine,

From deadly tight to dangerously lose;

From shoes they need to have to shoes they want

And shoes they would not buy no matter what

They went from heels that break to heels that don't,

To shoes that smell like real leather - but...

They mentioned boxes cluttering the loft,

Regretted closets full of boxes, too,

The shoes that ate the dog (I nearly coughed)

The dog that ate the shoes (I whispered "Phew!")

They talked of shoes-related aches and pains -

It seems there are no comfortable shoes

Except for maryjanes, but maryjanes

Are really so blah, so what's the use.

They talked of incarnations of a pump,

Of spikes both high and sharp enough to kill,

They talked of shoes that Clinton gave to Trump

(I think they meant Melania and Bill.)

They split the bill exhaling "oh I wish,"

Collected all the bags, and they were gone,

And I was left with my  half-eaten quiche

And strongest urge to buy a Louboutin.