The Dietary Identity

The fluorescent bursts of red and yellow— Anything but mellow In the societal mosaic Of modern life made archaic, Forcing its way into American sociology Proposing idealistic images of who we “Ought to be” When in reality We’re consumed in elementary philosophy Hung up on the Gospel of Wealth we think about But cannot see. To some it is a neurological relief As the taste of grilled beef Seeks to satisfy The biochemical need for sweet And temporarily relieve the brain Of its culinary addiction Until another reprieve Brings about immense necessity Almost to the point where you can no longer bare to Breathe. For others it’s all they can manage, Willing to sacrifice the physiological damage In order to provide for those they love Seeking guidance from some being above, Caught up in a state of fluster, Frustrated that it’s all they can muster— Until aspirations for a different reality become grim And lackluster, With the poverty line creeping near Full of the purest form of fear, The 99-cent burger is the mere Redemption against the looming depression. And, alas, there’s Ronald McDonald and all his friends Promising to bring about happiness again Across each and every child’s face, Aiming to keep pace with the latest societal craze, A constant race to be the best at luring in such an Innocent demographic, Redirecting traffic just to target kids to come in Becoming the main provider of breakfast, lunch, dinner, And then do it all over again. And again— And again.