There’s a sock hidden in my home, and I can’t find it.
I invited four friends over for tea, toast and poetry, and I had some ideas for how we’d spend our time. Everyone was asked to bring a poem they liked, to read aloud, and a mischief item. I’d set up my Christmas tree, with a skirt of poetry books, and set out some art supplies. I thought we might discuss our relationships to poetry and trim my tree with words. I didn’t expect a stealth sock.
To know more about that sock, or these hands, or the cow, come with me to Tweetspeak Poetry.