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Creative Commons License

This work is licensed
under a Creative Commons
Attribution-NonCommercial
4.0 International License
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Postmodern Village
est. 1999
e-mail * terms * privacy
What Do Communists Eat for Breakfast?
by Francine DuBois

For that chick in a Levi's commercial

I. Sugar-Coated Stalin Smacks

Bambi, the seventeen-year-old daughter
Of a Beanie Baby collector and
An unemployed porn fiend,
Proudly announced her intention
To be a socialist this year:
"Socialism is when you go to lots of parties.
The socialist party has lots of beer at it.
But I don’t want to be a communist and live in a commune.
They’re dirty."
Her mother didn’t look up from her Beanie Times, but instead
Exclaimed that Chuckles was retired.
Her father simply belched his Michelob breakfast.
The dog sighed from beneath the table.
Bambi attempted to finish the word puzzles on her box
Of Sugar-Coated Stalin Smacks.

II. Trotsky Treats

"See, all history is about class struggles, you know,
The freshmen against the sophomores, the seniors against everybody"
Bambi leaned against her locker so Brad could see her fine hips
Silhouetted in the afternoon glow. "So be a socialist with me. It all
 Makes sense, you know? So, let’s party sometime. It’ll be cool."
She handed Brad her Trotsky Treat left over from lunch.
"I’m on a diet, so I’ll be getting skinny for you. You can have my snack."
He took it, looked at her, blinked once and forgot everything she said.
"So, you wanna make out instead of going to chemistry?" he coughed.
"Sure, I mean, what the hell?" she giggled.

III. Francos and Beans

"So, I’m a facist, that means I like fashion, right? Because I do.
Old Navy is simply the best there is. I mean, Tommy Hilfiger’s okay,
But Old Navy is just so much cooler. That blond chick in the ads is
Like an old Heather Locklear, but you know, I guess affirmative action
Works for old people too." Bambi munched her Francos and Beans at dinner
While her father wondered if she’d ever end up in one of his favorite publications.
"There’s so many possibilities for me right now, Dad. I hate to tie myself down.
Besides, I think a blend of fashion and parties is a perfect match, sorta like
Cargo pants and a navy blue ribbed tank top. See, I’m talking like a facist already."

IV. Lenin Lite

"Great taste, less filling. Sounds like my ex-boyfriend’s wiener," Bambi snickered
As she tossed back another Lenin Lite. "You know, this party sucks. It’s not a party
Until someone tries to take advantage of me. Like that guy over there, he needs
To come over here and oppress me until I fall in love with him.
I think he goes to college already. He’s got a nice car. Hey!"
Brad, having dumped Bambi two hours ago, was already at home
With his new girlfriend who wasn’t so "smart and intimidating."
Bambi continued to talk to no one in particular, "He was just scared
Because I’m so socially aware. Like I know that guy over there wants me.
It’s because I’m a senior and he’s just a junior. That’s what I’m talking about
When I say class struggles. Well, there’s only one beer left and I’m the senior.
 Scarce resources. Ha!" As she was stumbling around this mysterious house,
She found a copy of the Communist Manifesto and she threw across the room.
"Dirty commies. I bet they drink generic beer. It’s their fault I’m flunking history."

Francine's Version -- Hezekiah's Version -- Inspiration
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