Swampy Shoes Aren'T Happy Poem by John W. McEwers

If you walk far enough and the day's not too cool
Then inside your shoes will feel like a mule
Inside it's mouth, where it chews like a camel,
wet, gross saliva on hard, firm enamel.
If your feet could spit, it would probably help,
but they don't sell those shoes on the shoestore shelf.
And so you are left with soles soggy, toes raisins.
Thinking about ways to meet crafty shoe masons.
Someone who could make the perfect hot day shoe
Shoes perfect for walking if you carry a spittoon.
If I could make them, I'd sell them for free.
Oh why won't somebody just make them for me?