deepundergroundpoetry.com

Florsheim Blues

white boys like me
can't sing no blues
ain't paid no dues
ain't got no shoes
with holes in the soles
and knots in the ol' rotten laces
ain't seen no lean times
or mean places
 
white boys don't know nothin'
'bout ol' man river
come rollin' like a tear
come ripplin' like a finger
'cross the ribs of the soul
ticklin' the soul flesh
 
muzak makes the white blood thrum
florsheim shoes tap delicate rhythms  
on the hardwood floors of suburbia
 
i seen him jus' walkin'
hot black glowin' dark
an' a ruby glistenin'
swingin' them shoulders  
like john henry's hammer
go'n wop that steel
go'n swing that thing
like a hip, baby,
like a finger snap
an' a blue sax wailin'
an' otis croonin'
makin' the pain rise
hot
an' thick
an' black
an' man,
i wanted to be him
javalini
Written by javalini
Published | Edited 15th Jan 2020
Author's Note
Truth be told, if I ever owned pair of Florsheim shoes they came from a thrift shop. And I am not really a stranger to lean times.
Still, working class white ain't working class black.
And...
Truth be told, if I ever owned pair of Florsheim shoes they came from a thrift shop. And I am not really a stranger to lean times.
Still, working class white ain't working class black.
And nobody sings John Henry like Odetta did.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VSC2oRphQQk
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