082320c

 

Mercury

Hitchhiking barefoot;

people try to give her shoes,

warn her a girl can’t be too careful,

ask her if they can call someone.

They don’t even know.

Part of her religion, she says,

she’s supposed to wear special sandals,

she’s looking for them,

followed the thief from Europe;

yes, her feet do get cold,

but her soles are tough,

and that’s why she spends winters

in the southern tier; her equivalent

of searching under the streetlight.

Classic profile, built like a runner;

turns some guys on,

but she’s never been caught.

Closest she came,

That cop outside of Dallas,

picked her up as a runaway,

thought she was a minor

till he looked into her eyes,

made a grab for her anyway,

but she quicksilvered from his hands;

he never could explain

why he was the one

locked in the holding cell.

She keeps looking for her sandals,

but after all these years she needs a break

from the chase, thinks of trying out

for the next Olympic games;

she can get a forged Greek passport,

she has the looks, she’s got the speed:

even without the shoes,

no one has ever touched her.