Make Me a Sandwich!, and The Relativity of Hatred

by Sarah Thomasin 

Make Me a Sandwich! 

The misogynists were starving –
They thought they’d soon be dead.
They had some cheese and pickle
And they had some sliced white bread.
But they scratched their heads and pondered
And their lips began to tremble:
These mysterious components
They just could not assemble.
Then the brightest spark among them cried
“Let’s try the Internet!
We’ll download the instructions
And we’ll fill our bellies yet!”
But the recipes they found online
Seemed very complicated
So pretty soon they’d given up,
Their appetites unsated.
The hunger pains intensified
And they began to yelp
As the realization hit them
That they’d need to ask for help
They knew, although they’d never say,
That feminists were clever
So they made a plan to trick them
Into helping their endeavor.
They went onto the forums
And the social network sites
They made awful sexist comments,
Started flame wars and picked fights.
And when they found a woman
Who seemed savvy, smart and witty
They’d say “Bitch, make me a sandwich!”
And they’d pray that she’d take pity.
But the plan it isn’t working.
And they’re slowly getting thinner
And it looks like the misogynists
Aren’t getting any dinner.
And when the last of them succumbs
To painful, slow starvation
Will we mourn their tragic passing?
No! We’ll have a celebration!

 

 

The Relativity Of Hatred

“No. “Homophobia”‘s too strong,” you said.

“When, somewhere that I cannot quite pronounce,

The likes of you and me can end up dead.
“We should not whine and grumble every time

They laugh behind their hands. We should not mind

The jibes, the threats; it’s hardly violent crime.
“And if a kid comes out, and gets some stick

At school, he should be grateful that he can

Come out. Not like in (where was it? Iran?)
“We’ve never had it quite as good as this

You said. “We should not use these hateful words

Like “homophobia”: it takes the piss.”
I said “Give me your hand. Don’t mind the knife

I only want to cut your finger off

Somewhere you can’t pronounce, you’d lose your life.

“So smile. Laugh at my jokes, and don’t complain

I’m only taking off a little bit.

It could be worse, therefore, this can’t be pain.”

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