2001/socks

I don’t like
my socks today.
Brown ones.
I prefer white.
I’ve never liked
these socks,
which do not
breathe,
and feel synthetic
to my feet.

My skin is sensitive
to a fault,
demands cotton
and silk.
Sunflower oil
and unscented lotions
in plain white bottles.

I’m a purist
of sorts.
Refining my tastes
the way musicians
perfect their
rifts.

3/29/01