Where Socks Go
Where
do socks go?
Lost
in the universal tumble and toss?
Sucked
up in a hosiery black hole?
Where
do socks go?
Now
I'll explain it to you.
In
this world we are wash in a huge dryer
Head
over heels against each other.
Our
pockets out like elephant ears,
Our
colors fading with every go round,
Pants
chasing shirts,
Shirts
chasing pants;
Everyone
trying to get into each others shorts.
The
socks are heroes.
They
are the counter culture of textiles.
They
are used to being stepped on, walked on and balled up
They
walk-the-walk and heel-and-toe it
On
the hip perfection of shoe leather soul.
They
know the beat and blistering pace of being.
They
are the first things on top of the dance.
They
are off the cuff, both tube and hole
Engendering
a kind of perfect harmony
At
not having to button on the left or on the right,
And
never having to zip.
Socks
never commit suicide
They
just disappear in the flap of things.
They
are never cool or in style.
Their
"sockness" is dharma
And
like Buddha they just
de·ma·te·ri·al·ize.
© 2003
Dan Kantak