Poetry Slam: OFG Style

Editors note: Decent folks, just look away. Don't read this. Come back tomorrow when there will be cute baby ducks. Consider yourselves warned. We, the editors of Adventures in the Good Land, are blaming it on the heat as that's the only explanation for this foolishness. Hopefully this will be the first, and only, poetry slam.

The scene:  A gritty downtown nightclub, troubled urbanites and their followers fill the hazy basement of an after hours club, nervous competitors review their notes and wait to be called to perform. The MC hesitantly announces the next name... "OFG to the stage, please"...a smattering of applause and smirking looks from those who do well  at this kind of thing. Newcomers aren't welcome and are greeted with suspicion.

House lights go out and suddenly a single spotlight shines directly down on an unkept, angry looking woman in a dirty shirt and barn boots.  Varmint control is ugly and not for the faint of heart. Rat shoots, poison, curly tailed bear killers going mano y mano with the most hated vermin.....sometimes it all becomes too much, even for the steadfast.

OFG grabs the mic and yells her rage, expressing the events of the last several days the only way that she sees fit...She calls this...Parade of Death.

Rat-a-tat-tat!
Four dead rats in a sack
Die, rat, die!
Possum?
Got 'em!
Good girl, Kai!

The crowd is stunned, they let the vivid imagery and symbolism wash over them for a minute... then they are on their feet with wild applause. OFG drops the mic and walks off stage. The other competitors shake their heads knowing they can't follow that performance.

The night ends.


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Check it out! Chai Chai has posted some more of her fancy guinea prose.. haikus to be exact!  Great work baby!