The Philolexian Society
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Stiletto Boot On The Side Of The Highway
by Juliana Strawn BC ʻ14
Stiletto boot on the side of the highway
Like my soul.
Broken, dirty, missing a strap.
O, my soul.
Am I nothing more than an old stiletto
tossed aside on the road?
Are my sins visible
like a broken stiletto heel?
Could a beaver live inside me?
Is there any hope for life
in my broken, broken soul?
Despite my Grandfatherʼs protests,
I stop the car
and pull over on the side of the road.
The door creaks when I open it.
Creak creak.
My soul creaks when I open it.
Creak creak.
I need to oil it so it wonʼt creak.
I pick up the stiletto boot.
My soul.
I sniff it.
Is it empty?
No! There is a family of worms in it!
There is life in my soul!
I take the stiletto to my grandfather.
How can this bitter old man understand my awakening?
I place the stiletto boot in his lap.
He cautiously picks it up
and tentatively eats part of it.
A hunger for knowledge.
I think he understands.