(Poem #177)Fast Food Big mac, small mac, burger and fries Shove 'em in boxes all the same size Easy on the mustard, heavy on the sauce Double for the fat boy, eats like a horse. Fry them patties and send 'em right through Microwave oven going to fry me too Can't lose my job by getting in a rage Got to get my hands on that minimum wage. Shove it in their faces, give 'em what they want Got to make it fast, it's a Fast Food Restaurant. Shake's full of plastic, meat's full of worms Everything's zapped so you won't get germs Water down the ketchup, easier to pour on Pictures on the register in case you're a moron. Keep your uniform clean, don't talk back Blood down your shirt going to get you the sack Sugar, grease, fats and starches Fine to dine at the golden arches. Shove it in their faces, give 'em what they want Got to make it fast, it's a Fast Food Restaurant. Baby thrown up, booth number 9 Wash it down, hose it down, happens all the time Cigarettes in the coffee, contact lens in the tea I'd rather feed pigs than humanity. Shove it in their faces, give 'em what they want Got to make it fast, it's a Fast Food Restaurant. |
Fast Food -- Richard Thompson
Love Like Salt -- Lisel Mueller
(Poem #176)Love Like Salt It lies in our hands in crystals too intricate to decipher It goes into the skillet without being given a second thought It spills on the floor so fine we step all over it We carry a pinch behind each eyeball It breaks out on our foreheads We store it inside our bodies in secret wineskins At supper, we pass it around the table talking of holidays and the sea. |
Headlines -- Robert Phillips
(Poem #175)Headlines War Dims Hope for Peace. Plane Too Close to Ground, Crash Probe Told. Clinton Wins Budget; More Lies Ahead. Miners Refuse to Work after Death. Include Your Children When Baking Cookies. War Dims Hope for Peace. Something Went Wrong in Jet Crash, Experts Say Prostitutes Appeal to Pope. Clinton Wins Budget; More Lies Ahead. Local High School Dropouts Cut in Half. Couple Slain; Police Suspect Homicide. War Dims Hope for Peace. Stolen Painting Found by Tree. Panda Mating Fails; Veterinarian Takes Over. Clinton Wins Budget; More Lies Ahead. Iraqi Head Seeks Arms. Police Campaign to Run Down Jaywalkers. War Dims Hope for Peace. Clinton Wins Budget; More Lies Ahead |
Madeira, M'Dear -- Michael Flanders
(Poem #174)Madeira, M'Dear She was young, she was pure, she was new, she was nice She was fair, she was sweet seventeen He was old, he was vile, and no stranger to vice He was base, he was bad, he was mean He had slyly inveigled her up to his flat To view his collection of stamps And he said as he hastened to put out the cat The wine, his cigar and the lamps "Have some madeira, m'dear You really have nothing to fear I'm not trying to tempt you, that wouldn't be right You shouldn't drink spirits at this time of night Have some madeira, m'dear It's very much nicer than beer I don't care for sherry, one cannot drink stout And port is a wine I can well do without It's simply a case of 'chacun à son goût' Have some madeira, m'dear" Unaware of the wiles of the snake in the grass And the fate of the maiden who topes She lowered her standards by raising her glass Her courage, her eyes and his hopes She sipped it, she drank it, she drained it, she did He quietly refilled it again And he said as he secretly carved one more notch On the butt of his gold-handled cane "Have some madeira, m'dear, I've got a small cask of it here And once it's been opened, you know it won't keep Do finish it up, it will help you to sleep Have some madeira, m'dear, It's really an excellent year Now if it were gin, you'd be wrong to say yes The evil gin does would be hard to assess (Besides it's inclined to affect me prowess) Have some madeira, m'dear" Then there flashed through her mind what her mother had said With her antepenultimate breath "Oh my child, should you look on the wine that is red Be prepared for a fate worse than death!" She let go her glass with a shrill little cry Crash! tinkle! it fell to the floor When he asked, "What in Heaven?" she made no reply Up her mind, and a dash for the door "Have some madeira, m'dear", Rang out down the hall loud and clear A tremulous cry that was filled with despair As she fought to take breath in the cool midnight air "Have some madeira, m'dear" The words seemed to ring in her ear Until the next morning, she woke up in bed With a smile on her lips and an ache in her head And a beard in her ear 'ole that tickled and said "Have some madeira, m'dear" |