It’s 29 degrees,
But, it feels like 15,
Winds 25 miles per hour,
Gusts sounding like screams.
The Sun is brightly shining,
Not a cloud in the sky.
Humidity at 30 percent,
Pressure says the air’s dry.
If you scuff on the rug,
You will produce static.
Snaps like a whip,
Field of electromagnetic.
Makes the hair on my head,
All itchy and light,
Tap a person’s shoulder,
See a blast of white light.
They’ll get mad at you, though,
Because it really smarts.
Like a finger in a socket,
An explosion of fireworks.
If you want to play a joke,
To get your cheap thrills,
The minute you tap their shoulder,
Turn and run for the hills.