How to Improve Safety Quality

An experimental poem in terms of the form: a mix between an ad and a poem on society.


Before you enjoy your fresh cup of McDonald’s coffee, take note of the warnings on the lid and along the seam of the disposable cup. We serve our delicious coffee at 180o – 190o F, so that your joe on the go stays hotter, longer.

Since the Liebeck lawsuit and other related lawsuits, however, we have been forced to add instructional warnings on the cup.

They are as follows:

Keep cup secure in cup holder when inside a vehicle.
Only qualified personnel may fill cup, or add cream and/or sugar upon request.
Qualified personnel must be sure that lid is firmly secure on cup.
Do not microwave liquid in disposable cup.
Do not drink until liquid is lukewarm.
Do not drink and drive.
Do not drink.

We know you’re an idiot.
We know you’ll ignore these new warning labels
anyway. No one reads anymore.

We know you’ll be sitting in your car, your coffee
cup between your legs because there are no cup holders, the
lid mostly open, and rather than
adding your cream and sugar,
hot coffee gets all over your lap and singes your groin.
What else did you expect?

We know idiots like you will inherit the earth.
Your new cup is our company’s contribution
to idiot-proof the world. We should
enjoy our first-world pleasures safely
by not enjoying them at all.


The Ol’ Kraken’s Demise

Lurking in the depths of what some
of you refer to as “the pond,” I see
at the surface not a single
ship pass above me for the past
half-century, though my documenting
of the years has escaped me after
a decade of snatching helpless
whales and sharks with colossal tentacles.

I have resorted to consuming
my own kin to live just another year,
hoping to be feared by you once
again. With each cephalopod
I consume, my heart aches more and
more, wishing to not make extinct that
which evolved from my design.
I listen for the low rumble of

your ships that soar high in the skies
towering over my domain; is it
so that I may not reach a slippery
limb towards your vessel and coil around
it, shredding it to pieces? If this
be the case, are you aware of my
existence and still fear the open
oceans where no one will hear you scream?

As I cruse the waters of my
domain, memories of your terrors
in tongues ring in my ears as I
spy your now shredded, splintered, wooden
vessels and your once vibrant, cloth banners,
now faded and worthless. But now
you explore my domain beneath
the surface? Where I reside? You fools!

Your metal capsules are no match
for me! It’s that much easier
for me to destroy you! Those projectiles
you fire in defense are merely a
slight irritation to the skin!
Do you enjoy putting yourselves
in harm’s way? You’re suicidal!
There are some regions near your coasts that

I dare not nor cannot tread; you have
tainted them with a black substance that
suffocates my lungs; I thank your
metal riggings for that. Is this
your method of bringing forth my demise?
You’re unable to shoot me down, so
you attempt to kill me with passive,
cancerous weaponry instead?


Oh how I wish I had taken
credit for the destruction of your
Titanic, yet you simpletons
rammed it into a mere iceberg. I’m
surprised you never encountered me
instead. What grand tales the survivors
could tell! That is, if
I decided to spare any.

I could hear the helmsman’s sweet terror
when he alerts the captain that
“Davy Jones sends his pet behemoth so
that he may claim our souls!” But why
do you claim I’m the pet of that undead
bastard? You have been misinformed!
He didn’t find me washed up on a shore
clinging on to any fragment

of life that was still in me, and with
his omitted heart, took me in and
nursed me back to health. Nay, I was merely
his slave; the bastard traded his soul to
Poseidon for me. And that is why they
are no more and you perceive them
as myth; I ripped apart the Soul Stealer
of the sea and the god of the sea.

No one rules this domain but me!

Poem for the Persona Poem Project I had to do for my poetry class. This was pretty fun to write.