For Pablo Neruda (Cheap, Dirty, Draft)
it seems that they disappear, to parts unknown
at least one a week, wanders off, but how with no feet
and these have holes, my nail growth outpaces
the grass leaves, long enough, will they go to seed?
make new ones sprout, perhaps, on my knees?
White and black faded, blue, grey brown
I put them on it seems, only to make my
feet sweat and and itch and stink
socks are like little urchens, run away
broken torn and hiding from those
who look to keep and use them
Pablo proved that with the right mind, inspiration can come from anywhere, perhaps I will prove that it doesn’t follow that the results will be particularly good 😉