AI Poem of the Week: The Great Pumpkin Spice Conspiracy

AI Prompt: Write a poem about pumpkin spice propaganda.

The Great Pumpkin Spice Conspiracy

In boardrooms high above the street, Where marketing minds discreetly meet, They plot with grins and gleaming eyes Their yearly pumpkin spice surprise.

“Release the lattes!” comes the cry, “Let cinnamon clouds fill the sky! From coffee shops to grocery stores, Let nutmeg seep through all the doors!”

The masses, helpless in their thrall, Succumb to autumn’s siren call. Their Instagram feeds overflow With drinks that have that golden glow.

Resistance crumbles, day by day, As ginger-scented breezes play. Each cookie, cake, and scented spray Leads countless sheep further astray.

The propaganda spreads like fire: “Your life needs more allspice, entire Collections of fall-flavored things— Buy what this changing season brings!”

In offices and corner cafes, The people walk in spice-drunk haze. Their credit cards swipe endlessly For this manufactured luxury.

Big Pumpkin’s shadow looms above, Converting all into their love Of clove-spiked drinks and nutmeg dreams, Until the world dissolves in streams

Of orange-tinted prophecies And cardamom-laced fantasies, Until we all at last submit To autumn’s spicy benefit.

But somewhere in a basement deep, Where rebel taste buds still keep Their preferences pure and clean, A resistance plots, unseen—

The League of Plain Black Coffee fights Against these artificial rites, Yet even they must face the truth: Resistance might be quite uncouth

For when the crisp air starts to bite, And leaves turn gold in autumn’s light, Perhaps there’s comfort to be found In letting pumpkin spice compound.

So let the propaganda flow Like lattes topped with nutmeg snow— We’re willing slaves to autumn’s vice, The revolution: Pumpkin Spice.