Fragment

I might as well live in a shoe factory,
unkempt and disorganized and smelling of rags,
where my restless nights are punctuated
by the sounds of hapless footwear
. . .
falling
.
falling
.
to be found by weary workers
in the morning.
.
How can I tell them,
suspicious as they must be,
that shoes that choose to drop
will do so, won't be stopped?