You love these red ones with the four-inch heel.
Just take them down and try them on for size.
Whoa! Wouldn’t those enhance your sex appeal!
And at a closeout price. Boy–what a steal!
But wait a minute. Wonder if it’s wise
to take the risk. Red shoes? A four-inch heel?
When you consider they could make you feel
unsteady as a drunk, you’d compromise
your safety. And for what? Your sex appeal?
A broken ankle is a bad ordeal
at your age, girl. And still you fantasize
risqué potential in a four-inch heel?
You think a shoe will do the trick? Get real.
Your dancing days are done with darling guys
attracted by your brains and sex appeal.
Except they weren’t. Youth wasn’t that ideal.
You can amuse yourself with harmless lies.
But don’t forget the creep. The clod. The heel.
You know there’s more to life than sex appeal.
Decades ago, when Barbara Loots began to publish verse, she chose to use her married name for its pleasing line-up of a’s and o’s. Late in life, marrying a Dickinson, she decided for some reason against another name change. She hopes you will look for Loots poems here and there—especially, her collection Road Trip (White Violet Press).