In Comp 3369 you were invited to write about the recent underwear storm of Chongqing, or some other freak event, as if it had happened centuries ago and become legend. The entries were wonderfully imaginative, though they dangled some grim visions of the future. It pains me not to squeeze in David Silverman’s poem, so here is his second verse:

Sing of that legendary dawn:

Of Chongqing’s briefs and panties, borne

Aloft o’er realms of Genghis Khan;

Of knickers measureless to man,

Of boxer, Y-front, bra and thong,

Dry clean and machine washable.