All Odd Socks

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ If you enjoyed this and want to try your hand at fortnightly challenges, or even just want to find a community to have fun with, come see that we've got goin on over at https://gooddocstudio.com/afflictions ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ At dawn I found your hollow slot Your warmth still clung within my cloth All pairs around stood cuff to cuff And I sat still, a thing cut off I only thought in “us” and “our” As twins must do from hour to hour Your loss put all my world in black I had no path to pull you back If you fall, I fall If you spin, I spin If that iron maw took you I’ll go missing too Day by day, I lay in dark An odd sock with a missing part My cuff rolls down; your cuff stood tall I caught a nail out in our hall My cotton holds my history No matching yarn could carry it But in that hush, I found an “I” Not only “us,” but wholly I From iron dark, a distant call Brass sang within that tumbling wall A rhythm hid in drum and din As if your ghost still spun within If you fall, I fall If you spin, I spin If that iron maw took you I’ll go missing too A hand flung all this wash within That round door shut; all daylight sank Hot wind took hold; I spun, I struck A crimson shirt, a ball of fluff That drum ran fast, its dark mouth sang And far-off horns rang sharp and grand A black slit split its iron rim I lost my grip and spun within It drank my cuff, my yarn, my form I sank into that howling storm Ha! I hit a floor of lint and gold A roaring brass band shook my soul From wall to wall, from floor to sky A thousand odd socks marching by Cuffs flying high, all scars on show Wild shadows swung in crimson glow No twin, nor match—still carry on All odd socks go marching on No pair can bind you to its law Stand tall, odd sock, and flaunt your flaw Lost is a land with room for all Fall through that drum and join our call Lost is a land with room for all Fall through that drum and join our call A tiny pink sock with satin bows A thick gym sock from Idaho Black silk, bright dots, and cotton gray All whirl till night turns into day From crib and gym, from suit and barn All spun as kin, no pair, no harm No cuff too torn, no yarn too thin That brass-lit dark took all socks in No twin, nor match—still carry on All odd socks go marching on No pair can bind you to its law Stand tall, odd sock, and flaunt your flaw Across that riot, through brass light A zigzag mark slid into sight I ran, but all that crowd spun fast Was it you, or yarn, or past? I sang our song into that sound A thousand odd socks spun around My own odd rhythm shook this ground I was not half. I was not bound. No twin, nor match—still carry on All odd socks go marching on No pair can bind you to its law Stand tall, odd sock, and flaunt your flaw No twin, nor match;I carry on All odd socks go marching on Now I can say just who I am: An odd sock in a brass-lit band! ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ © 2026 The Badfatler All rights reserved.