My glass-bottomed feet
are happiest in water, especially the sea,
and glow a deep aquarium blue. Little fish
kiss the O of their open-mouthed reflections.
On cold, clear nights I sometimes lie
on the lawn and point the soles of my feet
to the stars, till the glass frosts.
Then you scratch your name and God
knows what on them. You joke
how you can see right through me.
You always know if I’m telling the truth.
Sometimes I pull down the blinds,
stay in bed for days in the same black socks.
Gary Jude is from London. He has been living in Bern, Switzerland for many years. He works in advertising. He has previously had poems published, including in The Interpreters House, Poetry Salzburg, Ink Sweat & Tears and Orbis.