The Happening
The happening was a happening.
It must have happened. It sure did happen.
When things happen, they sure do happen.
They happened to me on one strange day.
My head was not my head.
It must have belonged to some alien.
My feet rose two feet off the ground
And did a pirouette with me on top.
Some strange invisible thing
Untied my shoe laces.
Then my shoes flew into the air.
That thing was singing off key,
“Fly Me to the Moon.”
Then my socks were knocked off my feet
And went flying into the air.
They looked at me as though I was crazy.
They yelled at me in some kind of sock talk,
“What’s the matter stupid?
Haven’t you ever seen
Flying socks before?”
They danced to the music
And did some somersaults in the air.
Two socks started out
But kept multiplying until
There was a whole gang of them
Getting ready to charge at me.
But only two did the charging
While the other ones were just laughing.
The happening was
Quite the happening, alright.
That drink the bartender gave me
Sure knocked my socks off alright.
It must have been pure alcohol.
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