If my boots were made of leather
Rather than rubber
I would travel the fucking world.
I'd run off with them
To face the great perils,
Triumphs,
Uncertainties, and heart pounding
Passion interests of
Feet clad in rugged, classy animal skin,
And I wouldn't need to worry
Or think
Or be concerned, as one does,
That the caliber of footwear
Sheltering my stride
Was insufficient for the task,
And would instead be free;
If only my eyes were open
Rather than closed;
If only my phone had the larger battery
Of an adventurer,
Whose wanderlust leaves adjacent power outlets
To the weak footed denizens
Of coffee shops, and convenience.
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