THE WAR ON ECONOMICS
There's a screechy sound in the
cereal aisle, as some kid runs by
with a toy. If he's got a mother
about, I don't see her. Lady!
Come get your boy!
-
Whenever I get to these places,
I go flooey - like crazy in an
igloo kind of way. The ratty
papers at the check-outs, and
each aisle ending with things
piled as high as can be : corn
cans, pancake mixes, soft drinks
in plastic containers. Eskimos
sent out to die, on ice floes, even
they have it better than me.
-
I get to some cole-slaw deli display,
hawking 'Grandma's' brand salads
and some sort of sauce. It stops me
cold, just trying to think. Was this
Grandma ever even real? A brainiac
headline by the lottery spinner then
catches my eye : 'The Social Costs
of Carbon Use.' Try telling that to a
food-mart with 16 acres of parking,
depending on those vans and SUV's to
ferry the minions in. I still remember
when 'Consumption' was a disease
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