My sneakers are speaking in German.
I find it completely dismaying.
I’ve tried but I cannot determine
a thing that my sneakers are saying.

They’re blabbering blithely and loudly
as if they think no one can hear them.
They’re jabbering jokingly, proudly
as if there were nobody near them.

I’ve never heard sneakers more oral,
like preachers engaged in a sermon.
It’s frustrating hearing them quarrel;
I simply don’t understand German.

They like to converse when I’m walking.
They scream and they yell when I’m pacing.
I finally got sick of their talking
and sat down and started unlacing.

I set them both up on the table,
and saw on my shoes with chagrin,
“American Made” on the label
but tongues marked with “Made in Berlin.”