THE SPIRIT OF 420 V. THE PATRIARCHY

DEVIN TAYLOR

 

lik Elijah b4 him, he descended

from his heavenly swamp, ridin

a flamin, caramelized onion, propelled

by sterile dragon/donkey hybrids.

His voice drizzled dwn Mt. Sinai’s

sumit lik Loch Ness custard.

I, a millennial sheperd, bore witness:

 

“The venom runs wi’in mah veins, fur

Ah too have bin indoctrinated bah the spiders

that be, ‘n’ consumed fae wi’in bah gender roles. 

Bit Ah have had enough o’ such nonsense. Now is the time

fur mass-awakening. We hae bin condishund, ‘n’

posishund betwixt the fangs of male inshecurity

fur too lung. These Napoleonic-Farquaads

poishund us, perverting oor cultural ideals o’

freedom, which noo staun precariously balanced

atop the abdomens o’ giant arachnids weaving sinishtuh

interweb threads toutin’ lassie oppresshun. Why, 

mah fair Fiona does nae venture ootside

oor shack in her skivvies fur fear o’ bein’ 

called a boaby-tease! Indeed, a fashcisht regime

o’ fem-oppresshun threatens all Far Far Away.

 

“These meninist, menandnazis are comin’ fur us all,

clippin’ the clitorishes of oor wumminfolk—lesht

they get hyshterical from their plesshure ‘n’

wheck aff oor willies. These Prince

Charming douchebag proponents

o’ the nice-guy, knight-in-shining armor, 

chivalric mythos know nuffin o’ courtshep ‘n’ deshency. 

Bit we wull fight! We mist smite! We mist

take tae oor pitchforks, oor torches, oor bongs. We shall th’gither

blaze the system. We need tae huff the tastykake fumes

until oor lungs become sugar scrotums—

disaccharide sacks—‘n’ wee ants crawl thro’

oor wind pipes as we sleep, ‘n’ oor ogrepowerin’ snores

shoot thaim oot lik’ uh geyser.  Fur truly I tell ye

that this sick rape culture of oors is roofying

females, lik’ uh spider catchin’ flies.
 

“Bit we kin change! Uh gargantuan cleod

o’ cannabis smoke shall engulf the green glen

o’ the future, o’er yonder valley of darkness. ‘ere

oor breth/siseth/gen.neutrethren shall sit th’gither

in uh giant spliff-circle ‘n’ feast upaun milk ‘n’ honey

‘n’ succulent onion nectahr, as the feshterin’ spider

corpshes o’ cish-male privilege shmolder

upaun uh bonfire—the rohtun smell o’ which

masked bah infinite variuhties o’ the dankest

kush that Christ has tae ooffur.”

 

and so, brogres and bedfellows,

our lord has been hella clear

in his word. We must take 2 the forums

and sow the dank BitTor seeds of internet

hacktivism. smoke weed evry day becuz Shrek

is love, Shrek is life  

 

 

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