Tales From The Foot

Gerald's Rap (Geropolis)

(Somewhere in Ohio's Licking County,
Gerald Chapman flees Communism.
He runs and runs,
He friggin' flees
To Camp Cod
And Monique.)

Monique's Left Shoe

I was at a campfire, captivated by a campsite.
And I met a woman and stared at her left shoe,
Saying: “Aren’t these marshmallows a delight?”
She replied, “They’re soft and sweet like you.”
I smirked and flirted that early autumn night,
I felt mostly lazy, while near smoke and soot.
Then she whispered to me, “I love fiery light.”
I fumbled and mumbled, “I love your left foot.”
While befuddled we cuddled near a fiery flame
Knowing she'd look deeper into my crazy eyes,
I blushed to exclaim, “You have a pretty name!”
She said, “I love your eyes and foreign cries.”
We had a fling without a ring and I felt blue,
Only to be interested in Monique’s left shoe. 


Bigfoot, big-hearted in youthful schemes.
A blistered, bearded beast had whiskered feet
Moving inhuman, a man of myths and dreams.
Ah, Bigfoot was the monster I wished to greet.
At eleven, a well-dressed boy, clean and neat,
Curious to meet the friendly freak with surprise,
Thumping, following his huge feet to a beat,
Tourists hunted. He hid bothered in a disguise.
Harshly and madly, deformed to human eyes,
A leader in the universal underground band,
Bigfoot was far-fetched, trapped
 beyond lies,
Living secretly in a timeless and magical land.
Mr. Foot lived in his rock shelter without care,
I would measure his feet hidden in his hair.

My Foot

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