Soft reassuring rumbling
thunder pressed against
my eardrums, white flashing almost
blinding swiftly striking from on
high. A soft mist envelopes
the produce on display -
Confusion compounded by flourescent
bulbs overhead.
An omniscient produce manager
has no true answer -
Who needs to be warned about
this sweet, refreshing spray?
When did society need to dance
on eggshells?
"Oh, you must not offend!"
is now the mantra
of the personality cult.
"Do not cross the gender line!"
the battle cry of weak-willed warriors.
We have become so fucking
afraid to offend.
Stand up! Become one with yourself.
Know that not all
will find you pleasing
to the ear touch taste eye.
Join with me - a faction
for the fearsome offense!
Battle lines have been drawn
across our hearts.
For our enemies, just try
to litigate with a fist
crammed down your throat!
Author notes
Written 12/18/2001
A contest entry
- Anything Goes by crystalgodess.
700 points, ended February 14, 77 entries
Honorable winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Wow! is all I have to say.
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One of my favorite things about AP is bumping up the commenter's points through the little star system. I wish you had added more, I almost always click on the fifth star. If you comment, you deserve a reward, just my opinion.
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Stunningly bad.
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