CRIME Poem: Leather, by Joan Johnson

I went downtown today in my patent leather shoes
To do charity work in the new jail for criminals

I went to teach a young man to read because
He would be a long time there and
Boredom would make him crazier

He had killed his mother

He twitched nervously when
I looked into his heavy eyes

No, I said each time you see these letters
You pronounce them the same way
He looked at my feet
Cool shoes Babe
His grin like a rip in his face