Gotta Eat


Everybody shuffle in line

Got your gold nuggets in hand? Teeth caps? Money signs?

Pile up the bread,

the fried chicken, the roasted chicken, the broasted chicken, the grilled chicken,

the chicken fingers, the tater tots, the fish sticks, the pizza,

the milk cartons.

Pause for a second

Listen to American mothers shouting on behalf of their fat children

All the weight from their checkbooks

go straight to their kids' waists, look at them,

the poor things, it's all your fault, it's all those lunchladies

giving them food they don't want

giving them food


Out the line you go with your tray

Move along now, little doggies.

Somewhere there's a hungry mouth to feed.



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