It's in the labels, when you go to the grocery store.
I've looked, you've seen and we constantly
continue to create and recreate the misjudgment.
These being based on the caloric intake of what
your skin color or your current choice in bodily attire.
And to look past all the big worded ingredients
to the underlying "flour, water and salt" just
seems way too difficult when we can continue
to focus on how exaclty to pronounce all
the "isms" that are carried around like badges.
How much you are willing to pay seems
to deem the value of how quickly they are willing
to let you die a death in the hands of bad produce
managers that can tell if you are ripe by feeling
the goods for signs of tenderness or decay.
Is it an inherent value brought about by
evolution, to ensure the "survival of the fittest"?
The aisles become longer and all the merchandise
much cheeper these days because we have all
succumed to the depravity that is inflation
and we subscribe to Vogue and In Style
which is running at a steep $3.29.
It's an irreperable damage, what happens
when the bag of sugar is open and all it's
contents continue to spill over the floor,
making it hard to walk, but inevitable to stop
for just a moment and read the labels.
Keep looking down at the checker patterend
floor and understand that it's just one of the
many avenues that you and I will walk upon
and that these labels are yours and mine
to own and exploit, and I am very very fattening.
I am a mother, a fighter, a wanton sex goddess,
a maker and a braker, a thinker and a dummy.
