@ 2011.05.16 , 13:28





:::The Shoe Licker Poem:::
So there I was, minding my own business, in my seat on the train.
Reading ads that zoomed by and passively listening to the repetitive announcements again.
When I noticed the guy across from me, laughing awkwardly, and staring down yonder.
WTH could it be, I wonder.
So, I proceeded to follow his eye's path and was amazed at what I saw.
There it was, in plain sight, was a man sitting quietly next to the middle door.
Ferociously polishing his Sunday's best, like nothing was wrong.
Dumbfounded when he took off his shoes and began washing it with his tongue.
A wise and clever passenger, could not think it unfair.
For me to take out my camera and start recording right there.
And that's exactly what I did.
It surely served him right.
You can't expect to spit and clean that shoe.
And don't expect a small red light.

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