telephone wire shoes 

i have seen telephone wire shoes
kicking at the moon. their knots
like hands clasped in the dark.
an orpheus kind of tether. 
it is best never to ask the pocket oracle
about what a symbol means.
the truth will get collapsed.
there is an epidemic of losing the ability
to read omens. most of the time
telephone wire shoes are placed
by a divine power who harbors 
the shoes of the dead. she will saunter
to the shed & pick out a pair before
taking the journey to the wire.
inside, voices spiral. merry-go-rounds.
a boy crouched inside his father's rushed mouth.
the shoes feel all of it. that is why
they still crave to run. dream themselves
on the surface of other planets. a new life
with fresh meanings. journeys not
yet spent. sometimes a memorial 
is not a place but a motion. there was
a boy who was killed by another 
on my block. for weeks, people hung shoes.
the divine let them. welcomed them
to the spirit seam. like walking on
a railroad tracks between clementine noon 
& honey fig midnight. the placed
so many shoes that the poles came down
& the street went all spiderweb. i cried even though
i did not know the boy. found his shoes
in my shoe pile by the door. took them.
tied them together tight. never let go.
threw them over the wire with the others.