Why should I let the hairs
on the top of my foot dictate
anything
Oh yeah, they weave between
the threads of my socks
Then each step almost pulls them out,
So I purchase socks with a higher thread-count
Fortified now, without an alibi, I walk
Foot hair no longer a factor
My ambitions climb
So my pace is faster
Foot hair not on my mind
The fine fabric massages my toes
A fan of friction, my Mercury rose
Forming pools of sweat beneath my arches
And static electricity like insects, marches
Marches as my hairs inter-tangle with my stride
So I speed up, as though this phase
Is merely the beginning of the trail I'll blaze
A quaint memory at most
And I continue patronizing this moment
"It'll make a great mantle-piece"
But soon, my static must find release
On these crowded streets, gunshots are heard
My feet glow, and people assume the position
I run at first, but I just become brighter
My only control is to ease my transition
Into a novelty life of public service
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