Buffalo Shrimp


I ate them
in spite of the ignorant sauce
that coated their previously frozen existence
no doubt
my snob kicked in and then
backed down

I ate them
even though they made me think of you
you with your fat disguised as skinny
you with your lie disguised as truth
with your fried green suggestions

I ate them
just as you told me to do
so long ago
when I believed eating them
would kill my brain cells
would twang my accent
would yell rebellious

I ate them
and more
I dipped them
in Ranch
a New Yorker’s nightmare
an elitist’s bain
dipped them in Ranch
and not only that
I ordered the fried pickles as well.

Leave a comment

Filed under Dark POETRY

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s