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Sock Heaven by Josh Sippie



Fold, one top into the other, pulled down into

an oval-ish bundle, swordfish and stegosauruses and tacos,

snuggled together as one; two, but one,

and into the drawer, there lays one

alone

without another

woolly, with penguins, unbundleable,

to be cast through the world, the mate gone to heaven

always feeling a fraction of itself, dead to itself,

pair it with Lincoln or a horse, but the penguin will always be

one penguin

and from that moment, it will be on its path to

being forgotten

to being

the last of its kind

because no match will be the match, the only match.

The only match is gone.

Monogamous

as are all of its kind, incapable of loving again

incapable of pairing again.

Next time, as the neighbors return home from a hard day’s work

as they cozy up with their mates, warm from a tumble,

bundled as one, maybe

the penguin will disappear too, gone to a higher realm

to be with its match once again

in a place

where toes are never cold


Josh Sippie is the Director of Publishing Guidance at Gotham Writers. His writing can be found at McSweeney’s Internet Tendency, The Writer Magazine, Brevity, Hobart, and more. When not writing, he can be found wondering why he isn't writing.

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