At my boyfriend’s house what I concentrate on most is hopping over
the sock bombs. By sock bombs I mean

all the dirty socks that are separated from their partners
and left, helpless, half off the couch, on the floor, under
the bed, in the hallway, under the stove. shanked, balling.

at times they borough and sprout into orange trees

or other varieties of citrus

eventually consuming the room (frozen;
          winter frost is best for citrus)
as if sleeping beauty slumbered and the vines know
          that the prince is approaching.

January 2007