The boots could be had for cheap
From the wholesale army surplus storefront
One of my afternoon UPS pickup stops
On Broadway below Houston before it was gentrified
Vietnam jungle boots made in Korea
As I liked to point out making a political point
Not realizing some fifty years and many wars later
I would be wearing clothes made in Vietnam
A swirl of memories surfaces of times gone by
Opened by those thick hard soles and canvas uppers
Favored by a number of the other delivery drivers
Impossible to wear through while walking the city streets
I was their supplier selecting the requested size
A favor I did for them thanks to a favor done for me
By the two men who ran the wholesale business
To let me buy those boots retail off the books
I remember Jimmy Owens who wore his proudly
Who grew up in Harlem and lived on 125th Street
So full of exuberant energy completing his rounds
Who included me in the group welcomed like a brother
And I got them for certain other African American drivers
Who knew the jungle pungi stick booby traps firsthand
Who wore those boots as a statement bonding together
In memory of their time as military conscripts sent to Vietnam
To see for myself I got a pair that indeed never wore out
But learned the hard way that instead I would wear out
Needing to switch to cushioned soled shoes on my feet
To ease the step down impact and high laces irritation
Now sometimes when my feet ache after I walk a few miles
I think of the endless series of modern wars in my lifetime
Saddened by the suffering of the ordinary people caught up in it
Not the world I hoped my generation would bring about
