SUPERBIA TAKES A TURN

 

Superbia bursts into the room,

 

 

high-arched feet,

52 bones and 66 joints,

 

perfectly pampered in pearly hose,

 

staggers on eight-inch sequined heels.

 

Steep insteps remind the flex of her back

breaking at the wheel.

 

 

Brash-lipped lover of her own excellence,

 

 

Oh, those thrice-layered laced lashes (through which she barely sees).

 

She believes in pleasure and herself.

 

 

She dreams of climbing blustery heights.

 

 

 

Superbia, Queen of Queens,

dreams

of shoes on her feet,

 

 of cozy

toes

in fondling shoes

of how she can’t slip

 

the same shoe

on every foot,

 

but when the shoe cuddles  she nuzzles up

 

 

 

She dreams of pride of possession,

 

of 2,700 pairs of shoes

in one woman’s closet,

 

 

of feats of collection

 

and 6 million pairs in god’s vitrine

 

and one pair of lucky baby shoes

 

dangling from the rear-view mirror

 

now berthed in the too-soon grave

 

 

 

She has travelled a great distance to trace the baby.

 

She sheds her shoes.