Indeed, I got some new shoes. Ha, they're huge, but I'm grateful. A poem for you this morning...a bit of a character sketch as well. Hope you have a good day. C.A.
The Meat Cutter
Dark, he breathes. Dark, he goes.
In a visor, the pale crown shows.
The shoes are Maddens,
and the blue-grey shirt is custom.
Yes, Italian. Lunchtime, mid-soup,
he states, If you see trouble crouching,
ace in the hole, stab him in the jaw.
Most days -- the right girl. Tonight,
strangely, he chooses the left one.
When his thicker hand crawls
across his thicker middle, he curses
the weight. Clean-shaven, he licks
and smacks lips, hoping for chicken
on the bone.
C.A. MacConnell
