Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of language.
My orifice is open wide,
come, snuggle up and slip inside.
I love your junk, can’t get enough
of your sweet-talking salesman stuff.
My slot grins wide with much delight
I love it all and I won’t bite.
Just stuff it in – but it’s such a sin
those flyers will soon be in the bin.
• • •
The paper trail comes thick and fast,
ephemera, it will not last.
A sale here and a bargain there,
but now I really just don’t care.
It’s too relentless, will it ever stop?
All we do is spend. All we do is shop.
Now I’m having a guilty fit –
I feel like such a wasteful shit.
From booze to shoes and fat to lose,
tattoos, previews, and fashion news –
a holiday cruise, or a bed to snooze;
I’ve had it to here, I have paid my dues!
These enticements come to blow our money;
we might as well flush it down the dunny.
If I want them, I’ll find them, when the time is right,
not force-fed garbage to provoke an appetite.
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| Writing Prompt |
What is the one common denominator of nearly every person on the planet?
JUNK MAIL! It just keeps on coming!
Write a poem - any style, any length - about the varieties that grace YOUR mailbox and how you deal with them. |
Author Notes
When I say, "those flyers will soon be in the bin", I do of course mean in the Recycling Bin.
And when I say, "we might as well flush it down the dunny", please do not take that as an incitement to waste money by clogging the sewerage pipes!
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