Have you ever landed in a flock
of eggshell people, the thin skinned
beretta tongued who love to see you bleed,
but don’t want you to leave a scratch
on their egos with truth?
They’re all into their star spangles, white
tabernacles, and Grinch charming.
Peacocks levitated on red, white, and blue
thinking they’re so holy you must walk
a gangplank if you call them out for their hypocrisy.
Well, I’m way past the egg minuet, and
have started clogging when cornered
by a schoolmarm smirk spill of people
who like to make the water boil, but
don’t want to swim in the heat.
I’m all into avoiding, keeping my peace with distance,
but when devils come to my doorstep, I’ll stomp a few shells.
©Susie Clevenger 2025
Louise: Part 3