Ode to My Tie Dye, My Tie Dye Pants
Yes, dear stranger, you may stop and look at my pants.
You can marvel.
You can worship.
Just don’t wonder why it is that I dance.
For if you had pants as wonderful as these,
Wouldn’t you jump, and run, and skip just like me?
Of course, there were many before.
First, my plaid flannels,
Then there were my navy sweats
And my soft, fluffy, blues, color as deep as any sky.
But while you’re here I’ll tell you,
There are nothing, nothing like my tie dyes.
I could write volumes,
I could fill pages
I could sit and talk to you for ages
About my wonderful,
Comfortable,
Vibrant,
Tie Dye pants.
Romeo and Juliet,
Jack and Rose—
They don’t have anything on me and my pants.
Be envious,
Feel threatened,
For I will understand.
These pants, I’m sure, can do more for me than any single man.
I can sleep in them,
I can swim in them,
I can even go to the gym in them,
And God knows I’ve done all three.
Quite simply put,
There is nothing so colorful that will ever satisfy me.
Except perhaps,
I mean, maybe,
Maybe I could find a box…
Of delightful tie dye socks?
