It’s springtime in the South, and the trees are covered with tiny leaf buds, the daffodils are merrily prancing in the breeze and love is in the air! Well, kinda.
The one thing I’ve noticed about this place since I moved back – and especially since I’m no longer burdened with depression – is that this town is the poster child for the Patriarchy. When I deliver groceries I guarantee at least one man (or jealous woman) will aggressively decide it’s their duty to teach this uppity bitch a lesson, be it because of the way I drive, walk through a store, or insist on being treated the same as the other delivery drivers during loading times.
This town has changed since I grew up here, but the way people act mostly hasn’t. Here’s an homage to their hypocrisy.
Sunday Morning in My Town
In Athens on this day of rest
the men all rise up with the sun.
Each will don his Sunday best
to worship god, or golf, or guns.
Last night on a Viagra high
they fucked their obliging spouses
who after waving them good-bye
shop online for bigger houses.
Tomorrow they will text their sides
in hopes of finding open arms
and legs to excite toneless guides
then take the blame for his wayward turns.
But first, today they’ll gather ‘round
in trucks so tall they have to climb in
and prove how tightly they are bound
to antiquated social mores.
(free clipart from webstockreview.net)