Don't Drink Bees

New shoes
Squeaking, squawking
As I'm walking
My own entrance music
Announcing a clown
'Cause who takes talking shoes
Seriously?

Not the impression
I was going for
But what can be done?
Shoes can't be oiled
Like rusty hinges

Then I spy a puddle
And have an idea
Look around for spectators
None in sight
And I douse those shoes good
With a couple of jumps

I smile at my ingenuity
Shake off excess water
And proceed down the street
To the duet-
Of my squishing and squeaking
Feet