the cubist

she wore what we called
earth shoes
back in the nineteen seventies.
grey blocks
of rubberized shoes,
bricks with openings for
one's feet.
she was squared off,
with short cut hair.
straight bangs,
straight shoulders.
no curves to be found.
she'd sit on the radiator
on the side of the classroom
and lecture us
on art history.
her fingers pressing a clicker
for the slides showing
the beauty of paris.
the museums,
the enormous cathedrals
of rome.
there was hardly a painting
or artist that she didn't know.
but it was hard to take
your eyes off her shoes
attached to her thick ankles
folded together
above the floor.