i got a pair of air jordans for the first time from an outlet mall a few weeks ago,
not going to lie, when i saw them, i did want to just walk away and pretend like they weren’t there,
but…i stared…and i knew that it was a discount, and i never had jordans before, never, ever, in my whole life!
so i had to, right?
i just couldn’t pass up such an offer
that would be dumb, of course
. . .
when the jordans first appeared on the market, kids killed each other over them
like legit, bullets to the heart for a pair,
sneaker-head culture was born
the king of air himself was asked about why he never took a stand
he told reporters that “republicans buy shoes too”
and so, decades later, i purchase my own, in honor of his greatness
. . .
much of what we get is made in some sweatshop overseas,
that is how capitalism operates
i, the privileged consumer, consume
and just beyond my view, someone else is busy making them,
hunched over a desk, fingers tense,
mind sewn by impoverishment.
funny thing is, i know this
we all do
and yet, we continue.
i, and you, and the worker,
united by a shoe.
. . .
i wear my air jordans to sleep sometimes,
have dreams of me on the basketball court, jumping as high as the moon,
eating ice cream with the duke,
boarding planes that are meant for me
mansions covered in gold
i am driven to trudge through the mud after the snow melts,
i am destined to wear these like second skin.