Tory Burch flats

Tori Burch flats

I saw her shoes,
they were Tory Burch.
she saw my shoes,
they were not.
I thought it might
be possible to
take a picture of
them both,
under the table
on the Acela train.
But that does
not seem right,
or does it?

Perhaps there
would be a fight,
a dramatic scene.
An invasion of
personal space,
a breach
of the Tory Burch
code of ethics.
Her lawyer would
write,
“this heinous act,
should not go
unpunished.”
And the papers
would read,
“The one percenter
who sues
over shoes.”
That’s not funny,
it’s just mean,
or is it?

But if our shoes
sat side by side
on this day,
it could mean more.
Can we measure our
equalities in
shoes?
Are naked feet
of any value to
anyone,
other than those
who stand on them?

What kind of
work gets done in
Tory Burch flats?
You know the ones
with the faux gold,
faux buckle.
Faux, faux, faux
but not real
still costs a lot
of money.
And they are not
good for running,
or farming.

If we lined up all
the Tory Burch flats
toe to heel,
would it go all
the way around the
planet?
Or be just long
enough to make
a chain from here
to a factory
somewhere in China.
How many pairs
of Tori Burch flats
would it take
to send a child
to college,
or feed starving
children in Africa,
or India, or America?
If there were ever
rationing due to a
shortage of natural resources,
who decides?
How many Tory Burch flats
should each one percenter get?
What is fair?
That’s not cruel,
it’s just the truth,
or is it?

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