that the little gnomes
that steal socks from the dryer
have gone on break.
I have matching socks
(that I never wear)
but the house feels just a bit too quiet
and I don't trust myself
in a house that's too quiet.
I think the toaster's going off
that the toilet's overflowing
that the rosebush outside needs pruning
but not until I find the sock gnomes.
They're probably drinking little drinks
with little straws with little umbrellas sticking out
finally combing the lint from their beards
as I'm putting out a search party
for the sound I've grown so accustomed to.
And even up until today,
when my house is a disaster
I can't stop searching
and all I want
is to be everywhere at once
but my fingers only stretch so far,
can only grip so much,
only touch 10 points within the 73"
of my wingspan.
And I think I've deadened the white noise
listening for my socks to go missing
while I walk around barefoot in neglect.