LPiA-22 Nov. 20
Let's Pretend it's April - Nov. 20

Rules: Write a poem for LPiA on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a separate reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month have written 30 poems for the month of November. 

Topic : Write a poem inspired by the idea of "gaslighting."
Form : Any
Line requirements: 8 to 14
Feel free to reply with comments or kudos as you wish. 

Gas Without Light

Ah!  The blind persistence
required to make
victim see himself (or herself)
as perpetrator
or, at least, deranged.
Genius, media
and other ideologues
from Marx to Kendi!
feedback award Non-practicing atheist
Write a poem about the idea of gaslighting?
Well, the "idea" isn't real, I checked.
My advice to all of you:
don't ride blindly and hope for results
if you have any sort of reputation to uphold.

Expect nothing less from Tiger the Lion,
this is no departure from his usual chicanery,
but don't worry, for this prompt,
I've created my own topic:
"Whenever is a really long never"
Non reactive, so noble.
Sure is pretty though,
bending every direction
to force our attention -
No, to entice our curiosity.
to make us want to come in,
and come back. Such a pity,
there's not much other use for NEON
Peanut butter honey banana sandwiches
The elongated muskrat
narrows his eyes
at the illuminated gas
flickering at the periphery
of a social media swamp
of his own making.
He may have created
the earth itself, diving
deep into the primordial sea
to dredge up mud
for humankind’s sake.
And his fur protects
the heads of the Royal
Canadian Mounted Police.
These facts alone,
not to mention he is
a Lenten delicacy among
Southern Michigan Catholics,
should soon put him
on the cover of Time
as Rodent of the Year.
When I was 7
I had to stand in front of the class
after missing Holy Communion
to be told that I was
going to Hell.
By the time I was 12
my parents were called
to pick me up
because I was being
kicked out for asking
too many questions.

The other day I saw
a large white billboard
on the side of the highway
that said, in bold black letters,

"You asked for a sign


And I had to smile.

When I finally confirmed
that I was being gaslit,
it was like I had bleach
poured down my throat
the week that it started
and only six months
later was I allowed
to go to the hospital,
all for a half-rotten dish
I never meant to serve.

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