Sense Offense Poem by Amy Whittlesey

Don’t breath God if you want to write
that would turn the tables, Right?
and pledge a renaissance in lines
of beauty, and of beauty’s fines
for sense offense

Don’t breath God if you want to speak
of what makes comrades spend the keep
and scribe their innermost mundane
and what is vulgar and insane

Don’t breath God if you can’t buy out
what’s on sale in sand and drought
Instead you should not be so mean
as charge a requiem for a dream
you can’t do that anymore

Don’t breath God for that is Old a
Capital crime so I’ve been told
Be useful Idiot and embrace
these wretched plays in pokerface
blind
leading the blind