Angelica Tao Poet Free verse

Old Socks

I have a whimsical patience. 
I just have to untangle the slithering awkwardness. 
Because I have trusty sludge in my pocket. 
I shift through different time zones. 
Hopeful. 
Reliant as the splotches hissing on my arms. 
Untangled. 
Like eating old socks, they promised. 
They taste as good as taffy. 
But that’s just my whimsical patience. 
Rustic.
Just like eating the weirdest stuff. 
And no after dinner mint ever.

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Jeanette Swan May 17, 2026 at 6:26 AM I liked the title first, then the intrigue of the story. The after dinner mint was nostalgic for me, (from my Nanna at birthday dinners). Taste is an evocative sense to use, and the line, 'Like eating old socks, they promised.' creates the intrigue for me, together with the repeated words of whimsical patience, and that 'slithering awkwardness'.... This is engaging even though I'm not quite aware of what is going on.