yo, nice boots, dude

it's strange when a grown

man 

compliments me

on my shoes.

it makes me uncomfortable.

i look down

at them,

puzzled.

they're just

boots, they're brown,

unpolished,

mud caked

and dulled, long

laces with little

zippers on the side.

i almost blush

and shrug my shoulders,

tossing

the compliment

aside.

thank you, i say,

then quickly change

the subject.