Yo, maid Marion
The wife says I must contribute
To this sock-full of poetic carrion
Where poems find their dying attributes
In this palace of cordiality
Between writers of disrepute
Where minds of beautiful banality
Put forth sock drawers of cotton salutes
I find myself in such good company
That I smile happily with each poem en route
To the heart of Cosmo's totality
Where they might find a place for their "reboots"
I pray that in each of your dresser drawers
Awaits a slew of socks (argyle) that you abhor...