|Socks by Peter Griffin|
They send forth their minions
Who invade under the cover of the spin cycle,
Stealing socks and spiriting them away
Into the nether regions of the laundry,
Transforming cotton-woolen blends
Into wire coat hangers,
Those distorted instruments bent
On staging a clothing coup
And seizing control of our closets,
Leaving a path of disarray
Through our carefully constructed household bliss.
And that’s why you don't have any matched socks, dear.
~~~~ This poem was written for the Poetic Asides Poem a Day Chapbook Challenge Day 1 prompt of writing a matches poem.