Ficlets

Garbage, the Other White Meat

I’m standing in line,
With the cashier’s whine,
“May I take your order, ma’am?â€?

“That’s right, you’ll give what I pick,
And if you don’t make it quick,
I’ll go out the door with a slam!â€?

Just look at them eat,
Filling up the cheap seats.
The greasiest place under the sun!

With their shakes and Big Macs,
The biggest heart attack
To ever slop itself on a bun.

The “chickenâ€? so tender,
Unknowns in a blender,
Held together with bread crumbs and glue.

Artificial flav’rins,
Amid cravers sayin’
“Come join the McDonald’s crew!â€?

I feel like hurling,
Is that the paint curling?
I’ve got to get out to the street!

Away from the grease,
To clean air, to the trees!
Garbage, the other white meat!

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