Assorted Poems, Some poems

Doc Marten boots,
you take me back to my roots,
when you were in cahoots
with both of my foots.

You have style. You have soul
(air cushioned to make you hover),
with optional steel toe-caps
in case there’s a bit of bovver.

Punks, indie kids, construction workers,
have all worn you most effectively,
sure treaders of carpet and concrete
on office and factory floors respectively.

Dependably Manufactured!
Durably Memorable!
Doughtily Multipurposeful!
Diametrical Moccasins!

To me you are the exponent
of the ultimate in utilitarianism.
To persuade me of otherwise
is an act of futilitarianism.

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