Posh shops know this and wrap them well.
Each sock cosseted in tissue and branded silk,
inside a solid shiny box tied with a bright ribbon.

The quality of these socks is only perceived.
They won’t last as long or stop your new shoes
blistering your ankle; you’ve paid for packaging.

A person is a bag of bodily functions, attitudes
and ape imprinting with feet that stink up shoes.
A pretty ribbon is rarely worth the higher price.

Sitting and gently rocking
compressing my hands
between my body and chair,
the numbing spreads,
but it’s only a delay.
Silence is draining and
an ineffective strategy.
To maintain ones status quo
always requires direct action.
Repulsion is everything.
It alters the exchange
rate in my favour.
I dress for their discomfort,
keep an unkempt beard,
hunch over or stare vacantly,
then just when action is called:
I wave my smooshed fingers
around and start to barter.
Quel horreur! “It Speaks”.
I love that look. Smiling
I collect the time I need.
For lunch I walk around
the corner to a nearby lake.
A thirty minute revolution.
The lake takes all my
bad feeling whilst I
take a walk. Another
excellent exchange.
But there are
several more rounds
this afternoon and I must
circulate wisely if
I am to retain the right
to leave work on time.
Muddy shoes will do nicely.