Arianna Pozzuoli (b. 1980)
SELECTED POEMS
Life According to Socks
Once upon my feet, there lived five pairs of socks.
And they taught me a thing or two about relationships which I would like to share.The first was a black pair.
Together for four years,
they told me stories about what it was like to be in an arranged marriage right from birth.
“It doesn’t work for everyone, but we’re lucky,” they said.
They have walked me everywhere.
To school, to work,
into crowds.
They have paced with me,
up and down
aisles,
waiting
on the phone.
Never judged me when I wore my pants too high,
or let them drag in slush, sleet, rain or snow.
When I climbed the steps to my first temple,
they told me I was climbing it way too fast.
They said relationships never last
when people don’t take the time
to respect the views of their significant others.My white pair,
reminded me of Bonnie and Clyde.
They said, “Our lives are constantly on the run.”
For a pair of ankle socks,
I could barely keep up.
They met in my final year of high school.
Became high school sweethearts
While I was diving for a volleyball;
my ankles kissed,
they instantly clicked.
They said the key to a successful relationship
is always having somewhere to go:
“Whether it’s down the street
or uphill,
we’d rather be moving
than standing still.”
And before I could fit in another word,
they told me that I had a finish line to catch.
The next pair used to keep me up on Saturday nights until 3 or 4 a.m.
All they wanted to do was dance.
My mismatched socks
told me,
“We’d rather be mismatched
than to live our lives inside sandals.”
Just because I’m orange and my partner’s body is green doesn’t mean
that we can’t be happy.
Others look at us every day like we’re doing something wrong;
It doesn’t make any sense.
Where in our packaging, our washing instructions
does it say that all socks must stay with their original pair?
Absolutely nowhere!
We have grown to not care,
because at night, we glow in the dark
and go to bed thankful
that we don’t have to sleep with a pair of cold feet.My single sock
hates being called single.
It prefers to be called independent.
It told me it was its choice
to leave its partner
after eleven months.
In the beginning,
night after night, you spoon each other or lay rolled together in a ball;
Life ain’t so bad after all.
Then,
as time goes by,
things start to change.
“I just wish I could do things on my own,” it said.
“Imagine living your entire existence like a set of twins at the circus,
your identity rolled into one.
I used to get so frustrated and fling myself onto lamp shades and across the bedroom floor.
Sometimes you just want to be free
and lose yourself under a bed
or inside a child’s drawer
and taste the feeling of a fresh grass strain.”Finally, my holey socks.
Were
calm,
cool,
collected.
Got mistaken for neglected.
People think because of the holes in their skin,
they’re living in the street.
They are wrong.
They were the most loved of all my pairs,
Introduced me to puppets, dress-up, and sliding on living room floors.
And it was a day of despair
when I had to throw them out.
I felt like I was bulldozing the first street I ever lived on.
When I asked them about relationships,
they revealed to me that they are the best of friends.
And that’s all they could ever be.
Between them both, they are too many holes,
gaps to fill.
It would never work.
So a long time ago,
they decided to
keep each other close
and commit themselves to a lifelong friendship.Once upon my feet, there lived five pairs of socks.
Every now and then, I keep my sock drawer opened,
waiting for the next lesson on relationships to unfold.
by Arianna Pozzuoli
from Something for Everyone (2014)
