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Satire goes Viral in Spring of 2020
by Kristina Woodhill
Book of Trepidation
Chapter: at the moment, the neverending one
Rorschach, Shellshocked, and Intobedwego
found themselves wandering around inside
a pain-filled, spreading, hungry inferno
unique in that other people kept appearing
and disappearing
like popcorn at a bad “B” movie,
or whack-a-moles
getting hit by invisible mallets.
Help us, “Oh, Lord,” they cried out!
“How can we find our way out
of this hot mess?”
God peered down and yelled,
“See that huuuge Orange Peach
rolling around in fuzzy logic along
the perimeter of this sea of flames you're in,
crying out for you all to suck it up
and get back to work?!”
Rorschach exclaimed, “I see it!
It looks like a whirling top,
no, a blob of indecision,
wait, wait, a big basket ball
with no clue how to find the hoop.”
Shellshocked countered,
“It's a cold blooded killer,
uncaring, unscrupulous, unmasked.”
Intobedwego gasped,
unable to speak,
one long-nailed finger pointing instead,
wishing hard to turn overgrown peach into balloon,
make the thing squeal with one
sharp satisfying puncture
God spoke again,
“Grab the spinning peach,
cut out its cold, stone heart,
slice and feed its fatted flesh
to those in need,
those without greed.
Call me when you're done.
I've reassigned
Sir Fighting Chancealot
to guide you beyond this
unfortunate calamity.”
Amen, amen, amen
05/12/2020 Author's Note: Sometimes it feels necessary to invoke the Old Testament God. Also doesn't hurt to have just watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail. ;)
Posted on 05/12/2020
Copyright © 2024 Kristina Woodhill
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 05/13/20 at 06:55 PM Amen, amen, amen. lol Another feather in your cap Lady Lancelot! |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 05/15/20 at 10:24 PM ...as a virus triggers satire. This will not look out of place in your shrubbery, ni? |
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