About The Shoeman..... Poem by RIC BASTASA

i seldom
travel in your city

and this day
i park my car far from
the shoe repair shop

where i bring
a pair of old and worn shoes
for repair

i told the shoe-man
this is a white shoe
make it black

and this is leather
make it appear alive

like the skin of a
crocodile

meanwhile the
tv shop has
turned into an
eatery

the pharmacy
has become another
mall for
old and
overworked people

there are only two of
them now
one is always coughing
and the other
is obese

the third whom
i met a long time ago
is already dead

the old man
slouched
and i remember
the hoe

the city has
changed
people meet me
and they
do not remember

on the same
odd way
i don't remember
where i
was