Whatever the popular target group of the day is, whatever the subject.

My mockery is always there.

For the bulk blamer that frivolously tosses derision about.

Indulgence in derision is a hobby of mine you see.

Once deceit has ensued sufficiently, it is imminent.

It is focused, stage set and sharp while dull, like an old Dylan song.

My mockery is always there, for the bulk blamer, broad stroke naysayers.

It is not the jest, nor the target of blame that I mock.

It is not visceral, the aroma or the taste.

What I mock is lack of precision and focus, the clumsiness of it all.

Who has earned your mockery, your derision, such angst and will.

Internalized as fuel to spill all over to the thrill.

This thrill of received emoticon praise, emoji cheers or meme defeats.

Have we queried the source of the fuel, the food of our mockery.

Have we queried a reasonable deceit.

Who is the other, why is the other, what do they think, am I salmon.

We are all pink on the inside.



Photo by Eric Heupel, Flickr Creative Commons