Swiss Army Foot

i awoke this morning

today had arrived with a funny feeling

i lay in my bed looking up

i really need to clean that ceiling

rising with a recalcitrant retarded reluctance

i sat hunched on the edge of my bed

elbows on knees chin in my hands

just to hold up my head

i looked down at my left foot

for reasons of my own

my big toe

had turned into an awl

an old one,

made by hand

(there's a really thin joke in there somewhere but i’m not touching it)

my little toe

was a Philips head screw driver

most of my foot was still my foot

but my toes were all fucked up

the toe next to the big one

was a thin headed chisel

looking very shiny

very new

the middle toe

was a sturdy bottle opener

straight out the bone

it grew

toe number four

was a tiny pair of scissors

to make tiny little cuts

in tiny little things

either side of my frankenfoot

(nothing wrong with the right)

was a hard red plastic

with a little white cross

near my heel

my foot was half a pocket knife

i was neither joyed

nor saddened

by this turn of events

but right there and then

i vowed never

to look at my feet

again