Today, I was scolded Was told that I was a boor; That I had, inadvertently Rendered some holy cattle Of theirs a death rattle A battle I won, without knowing I had even fought, thought I was just being amusing, Somehow confusing my path Down through the tulips As a meander down the apse Of some secret church. Unfair! I was unaware. And even now, I fear I care Far less than they do About their holy cows. I didn’t then, I don’t now.
But, I have accepted, long ago That, with social networking I simply has to be so That people will be offended; Starting open-ended rancor, Scoring slash after ****** slash Across my Mr. Perfection sash Granted me by nobody but me, And that they will put a smudge By bearing a grudge About what I see As a trifling inconsequentiality. But is their cathedral, Their Mecca to bow to And thus I will be the target Of slings and arrows.
Shall I be sure to only speak If I speak plenty of inanities Muttering banalities about love And the weather and books Shall I fear the looks, the scorn Born of misunderstandings Taken as mishandling The hearts of the tender And render myself informationless, Opinion free, without personality Speaking when spoken to eternally So I don’t trip over hidden wires, Don’t **** on burning fires Of pet peeves, rip off the sleeves Of hair shirts, do idols dirt? Is that the way it should go? I don’t think so. But, what do I know? I am the scurrilous, stumbling fool Who ****** in someone’s pool And told them it was raining.