Fuck Me Boots

by Corey Ginsberg

Suffer me sexy,
last week’s paycheck,
my leather lunge parade,
twin trademarks
of designer agony.Wear me snug,
swank sarcophagus.
Trot me along
on this unscuffed pilgrimage
to the island of debt.

Package me,
pre-paid postage
toe envelope, enveloping
foot folds.
Support me, and strut me
sanguine.

Catwalk me,
posture-perfect
arch Panini,
sole slap rhythm clomp
stomp me.

Tiny horse trot me,
hoof tirade.
Ankle-hug sweaty sock embrace
my matching shin faces.

And help me forget
how plain and pain-
free standing straight
used to be.


 

fuck-me-boots-_-corey-ginsberg_lgeCorey Ginsberg received her MFA in creative nonfiction at Florida International University. Her work has appeared in over six dozen publications, including The Cream City Review, Subtropics, Memoir(and), The Los Angeles Review, Pank, Gargoyle, and The Writer. Corey currently lives in Miami and works as a freelance writer.

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4 thoughts on “Fuck Me Boots

  1. ina says:

    I *love* this. I’ve seen so many women try to write about uncomfortable (high heeled) shoes, but you really got it. “Tiny horse trot me/hoof tirade.” is just brilliant.

    Like

  2. Marina says:

    Yes! Thank you for capturing so eloquently and comically why I don’t wear heels. I’m in love with the subtle rhymes in this poem. So hard to pull that off and stay funny. Awesome.

    Like

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