Tonight, I feel a bit like I’m stuck A holding pattern of sorts. Which immediately makes me think of plaid. Or argyle. A textile of mathmatical proportions. A fabric woven to give the appearance of motion, Where there is none. A lie of progression, standing still Smarmy with irony Because it’s on a sock. Which obviously moves Though hidden in a shoe. Does it know where it’s going? Because I don’t. So I’ll stop here.…
