I visited the Pagan fest yesterday.
Not that I’m a practicing or non-practicing Pagan.
I was curious and wanted to see what it was all about.
Old school mythology has always been an interest
Since I was a kid – Norse, Roman. Greek, Egyptian.
Those stories always held more interest to me
Than those told in Sunday school.
The fest was kind of a bust. No human sacrifices.
No half naked women dancing around,
Chanting at the moon
At least not when I was there, just after lunch.
No goats, no black cats, no toads,
Nothing resembling a witch’s familiar,
Other than some annoying, toad-looking kids.
Not even a single broomstick in sight.
Just a lot of incense, homemade soap, fake fairy wings,
Tea samples, rodent bones, Tarot decks,
Folk art with chickens, cows, and tornadoes,
And people who wanted to chat.
I asked about the ceremony
Involving a sacrifice and orgy afterwards.
Did entrance to that cost extra?
Would condoms be provided?
Or wipes to clean off the blood?
The festival goers who previously wanted to chat
Suddenly lost all interest.
God damn close-minded pagans.
Brian Rosenberger lives in a cellar in Marietta, GA and writes by the light of captured fireflies. He is the author of As the Worm Turns and three poetry collections - Poems That Go Splat, And For My Next Trick..., and Scream for Me.
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