Pizza or Fish?

Frozen not fresh.

Whoever thought a trip to get groceries could be so complex?

I am conscious and present, lest a wrong choice bring trouble to the President.

I can’t daydream or really rush but I better, I need to catch my ride back to the food desert.

There my children are waiting, I left them behind, this time I’m talking about no money for the bus  to take them, not their state of mind.

Past the broken schools with no books and copious safety rules, tattered playgrounds and cops rolling around.  They’re there until something happens.

A paradox – I like them around if they’d quit shaking all the hard-working folks like myself in the  neighborhood down.

Oreos or fresh-baked?

I can’t afford the almost spoiled eggs, flour and sugar so maybe its fries and a shake?

Oh did I say food desert?  A misnomer a bit – there’s food there – just no Whole Foods and Fresh Markets.

See that little boy – his  tight new kicks.  Don’t raise an eyebrow, I’m sure his mama didn’t pay list.   China is not the only country with third world cities and a black market.

I am not angry – this is my existence.  I am just perplexed that those who purport to represent me just don’t get it.  

I believe in the American dream, it could have been for me.  I am putting the work in and acting responsibly.

Little “tight kicks”  is not the poster child for the way folks behave in poverty.  

I don’t have the luxury of being naïve – I know how broken dreams and hunger wreak havoc on morality.

Fresh, frozen or canned? Can’t afford the Fresh, will I have power to cool the frozen – can I lug the cans?

Who might be near to lend me a hand?  Do I have the right to ask for help or do I just my  get my hustle on? When the consequences come down on me will I be able to stay strong.

Whoever knew a trip to get groceries could be so complex?  Do people in congress get their own groceries or do they arrive delivered on private jets?