When weeds were still flowers
and time was more white than gray,
you could let your feet dangle in the water
without fear of teeth beneath.
All was saccharine and sweet.
Then came Progress
and the Genetically Modified Orgasm.
No one is quite sure how it happened.
Some claim that it was discovered
by a lone female scientist
after years of solitary research.
Others blame frack fumes or the French.
Regardless of from which loose loins it sprang,
the GMO threw the world into shuddering, writhing chaos.
Religious leaders condemned it as an abomination
and issued warnings against Fruitless Fornication for Fun.
Liberals applauded it as Climax We Can Believe In
and promised access for everyone . . . you know, someday.
Conservatives held firm
and continued to dismiss all talk
of any female orgasm as mere myth.
And, so, the Genetically Modified Orgasm might have languished
forgotten in some lab somewhere forever
had it not been for the bravery of women.
Just as they had for thousands of years,
women took their orgasms into their own hands.
For the vote, these savage suffragettes might settle
for starvation and signs,
but for the Genetically Modified Orgasm
they traded their femininity for foxholes
and went to war . . .
where they still are . . .
under the banner of the Snake & Apple.
Kind of a Steampunk thing (sort of?) for Kerry's prompt at Real Toads