A Toast to Socks

The maid was in the garden, hanging out the clothes...from A Song of Sixpence by Walter Crane, 1909.
Image is courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.  Public Domain.

Just Plain Wrong

“Never put a sock in a toaster.” ~Eddie Izzard

I sniff and smell a thing that’s burnt.

The scent is bad.  I haven’t learnt

that socks just simply don’t belong

in things like toasters. Just plain wrong.

It’s just that my toes feel like ice,

and toasty socks would be quite nice!

I should have known this all along:

No socks in toasters.  Just plain wrong.         

But if I’d put my toes inside

the toaster…well…my hide’d be fried.

A sock plus toaster? My torch song.

No socks in toasters.  Just plain wrong.

I sniff and smell a thing that’s burnt
in things like toasters. Just plain wrong. 

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The poetic form is Kyrielle Sonnet.  I happened to see the above quote (which is serving as my epigraph here) and it just conjured up some funny mental images.  My imagination was ignited, so to speak, and thus a poetic conflagration ensued.