Socks in a pack,
I think business blacks
Are the tip-top,
Crowning... crests!

I did want navy,
But these suffice...
Market-availability...
Of the darker rarity...
But far from a craving
And more a insecurity:
The shrinking: pairing them
With... black dress shoes,
Swiveling into: the invisibility.
They tap, tremor, tri-cack...
To the tilling of my feelings.

Then, there's muscle men
Discontinuing their routines
Of bulking up, burning pin-
Sized brains into Caffeine's
Timeshares, homes and extras,
Or storage bins or tins.
The Middle-Age Train shifts
And sags them to women;
The on-board monitors
Collect the ticket stubs
Clinched between hairy rifts.

Men have faux fur options too,
Fashion mothers and activists.
The majority of women lacked
A hunting spirit, way back when
The real thing was warmest, true?