Prose Poem: The Boycotter.

 

I'm in the middle of my biggest boycott

ever.

One day soon the media will recognize

the importance of what I'm doing and 

I'll go viral in a New York minute.

*

I started boycotting as a child.

I boycotted my Cream of Wheat frequently.

Despite cruel repercussions from my mother.

Boycotting school came as naturally to me

as falling off a log.

My determined boycott of brushing

my teeth was my first real success -- 

 I had a full set of dentures 

by the age of twenty.

*

Why work when you can boycott --

am I right?

I boycotted my job at the Post Office.

Then at the Ford Motor Plant.

Then at the lawn service my brother ran.

I'm proud to say that I withheld my

patronage from the entire Silicon Valley

cartel.

*

I am still boycotting Covid-19.

And masks, of course.

And apartheid in Mexico.

I have always boycotted Burmese cats.

*

And now my biggest boycott

is taking place right in my own

apartment.

I am boycotting global warming

by the simple action of ripping out

my thermostat. 

This has already piqued the interest

of building management.

I expect that interest will grow

exponentially,

and I am already learning Swedish

for my appearance at the 

Nobel Prize Awards Ceremony

in Stockholm . . .

Where I will explain why I

am boycotting my award.