i wonder if a pair of nancy sinatra boots are hidden in this pile of rubbish. the pile reminds me of portobello road from bedknobs and broomsticks, anything and everything a chap can unload, but you have to be really dedicated to find gems among junk. but nancy sinatra boots would be gems, because i could put them on, zip them up, and start walkin'. where dorothy got no special power per se from wearing the ruby slippers, my boots would make me a bad-ass, and i could walk all over people. only bad people. people who make me cry. and the power in my boots would radiate up my body, into my hands so my finger could wag in faces, and my mouth would speak harsh truths i am normally too timid or fearful to say. yes, i think i will go the phillipines, find this pile, and dig for my boots.
if only i had a magic bed to fly me there.
(picture and topic furnished by mya)
No comments:
Post a Comment