PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Someone looking through the windshield of my Ford Pinto, that

sunblazing afternoon, would have noticed BlueShift's unshod

feet propped upon the dashboard (his shoes on the backseat

floor).  His gorgeous feet were sheathed in midnight blue

socks, seeming to emerge from his baggy jeans' frayed cuffs, a

particular defiance of local (as well as homophobic) prudery's

distinct prejudice against distressed denim.  His socks'

toes and heels were a light, even a silvery gray color,

making for a pleasant and attractive contrast.  Someone looking

through the windshield, in the big box store's parking lot that

Saturday afternoon, might have noticed the beauty of his socks,

but not their fragrance---deeply inhaled; nor their flavor---

gratefully and repeatedly tasted, my privilege since Saturday,

July tenth, nineteen seventy-six.

Januarian