How I Roll...

A pickle in a cup in a sneaker sneaker sat,

Sipping brine on the hood of a car just like the silly fluffy cat.

Laces tied in philosophical loops,

Muttering softly about boops within hoops.

The cup said, “Honestly, this feels absurd,”

The sneaker replied, “I prefer not be heard.”

But the pickle just wiggled, delightfully green,

Declaring, “This is the best place I’ve ever seen.”

A sock rolled by with a whisper and grin,

“Careful,” it said, “that’s how weirdness begins.”