High Heels

The Trappisting, Alphonse Mucha, 1897

High Heels

I’m a goat up here. I’ll eat anything

anyone dishes up.

Femina erecta,

tiptoeing mincingly over the ground

(not offending anyone, am I?)

heels stashed high

into calves, hidden,

swallowed up the knee,

such pretty gluttony I soon forget

that once I swaddled soles in dirt,

white flesh smacked to black soil.

Ten priapic stumps exited young boys.

They promise me a well-intentioned man

for each set of well-heeled shoes.

I own forty pairs.

I could be polygamous

if I weren’t so damned female.

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