Look up, look up, it’s raining shoes,
First one, and then you have a pair —
Now a closetful pell mell,
Tumbles through the murky air.
Blundstones, wing-tips, Dr Scholl’s,
Sling-backs, Nikes, espadrilles,
Souls ascend amidst the deluge,
All stray dogs now come to heel.
The heavens rumble with the sound,
Some cobbler must be in a mood
To cast this lot so vengefully
Upon the wicked and the good.
And you who’ve spent a lifetime waiting
for the other shoe to fall
And braved the knowledge since a child
That all delight’s ephemeral —
Even you are taken by surprise
As you watch stilettos drop —
You envisaged a half a shelf,
Not the whole and stinking shop
Yet venture out to try them on,
You the only one to dare it —
And slip your foot into a Prada —
It may pinch, but, girl, you wear it.