I Eat Pickles

I Eat Pickles
By Amy Moloney

Sometimes I eat the wrong pickles
But you know, I really like them sweet
The looks of disdain from my friends
Shows how poorly I have chosen
But the pickles I eat are mine and mine alone
Go eat your own pickles if you feel so strongly

Furthermore, I like a lot of things sweet
There is no crime in sugar coating this world
I am not a bum for eating dessert first
Sweetness makes this thing called reality easier to swallow
And why wouldn’t anyone want to sweeten life
It’s filled with the bitterness of anger, denial, greed
The foul taste of jealousy permeates the air
So much so that people judge you for eating pickles
The news reads like a horror movie gone wrong
With images of murder, abduction, and rape
Served up by plastic smiles on barbie dolls
The sound of music becoming trite
As memorable as bubblegum on the bottom of my shoe
With themes so trivial that the size of my ass
Is the only real issue for the world to contemplate
By the way, the size of my ass is perfect
But you didn’t notice because you were watching me eat the wrong pickle

Did you notice that the government has removed your right to speak
While you were giving me shit for eating pickles
Somewhere there is a billionaire dictating the rest of your life
There is a prison cell being padded for your breakdown
An army of our brothers are coming to capture your freedom
Taking citizenship away from you
But you didn’t see the uprising of corporations
Distracted by a my jar of pickles

I may eat the wrong pickles
But I do not judge others for the pickles they eat
You may not find zesty and sweet to your preference
But do you know who won the Nobel Prize for peace
Not that any award is more than a popularity contest
Congratulations, you’re the prom queen of peace
And thanks for not blowing shit up this year
Is there a place safe from pedophiles and cyber-stalkers
And if there were such a safe place would anyone be there
But the pedophiles and cyber-stalkers looking for new prey
Will the media report about the cure for cancer
would such a cure be allowed to survive
Because there is no profit in a cure, only in suppressing the disease
Or do the designer shoes of a cracked out actor make the front page
Where does priority start and where does vanity stop?
But don’t mind me, I’m eating pickles

Are you fucking serious?
They are only pickles for fuck’s sake
So here we are, a world at war for things
As non-tangible as the name of God
And who’s getting to heaven first
Here I am eating the wrong fucking pickle