Yonder on the horizon
Sights of terrifying proportion.
Those whom your aunt and even the poor shun.
Stampede of hipsters
All wearing beanies.
To be frank they looked like a bunch of wienies.
Shoulder bump me
Whilst on the sidewalk.
No apology. Just smirks as they continue to gossip talk.
From a safe distance
I holler to watch yourselves.
My stomach aches from eating too many bivalves.
Their response to which
Was of characteristic fashion
They accused myself of being a non vegan fascist.
My faith says to turn the cheek.
Check engine glows in my Hummer
Thoughts running, tears flowing, battery dead. Goddamn Bummer.
High Cuck Poem
The views expressed in these submissions are from anonymous, unverified sources and do not necessarily represent those of the Portland Mercury.