Half Drunk Muse Poetry


Americana by Ricky Garni

When I grow up, I would like to be much bigger than
I am now. So big, in fact, that I would use the local
fast food restaurants for shoes. Hardy’s would make an
excellent left shoe, Roy Rogers would make an excellent
right shoe.

You know when they say ‘you have two left feet’?
No one would ever dare say that to me. I am now,
offically, too immense.

“Take your shoes off when you come inside” my mother
always says. She is really no different than any other

I always do take my shoes off.
Still, ah that feels good.

I like looking at my shoes. I especially like the
people in them. They seem so sad. Not me,
I have friends. But I am hungry. They aren’t.

If I were to tell the truth, I would like for my mother
to notice that I always take off my shoes, and that
I have grown, and that there are people in them,
and they are sad, but I am not. Or frightened?
I am hungry. Dinnertime? Not really. Not so.

View bio for Ricky Garni Published in Spring 2006

About HDM

Half Drunk Muse was one of the first poetry ezines. It was founded in 1999 and ceased publication in 2006.

Questions/comments? Email samiller@halfdrunkmuse.com.