The Dance of the Suits in the Garden of Eden

The dance of the suits dressed up in the costume of clever scripted dialogueSelling themselves as;A fine upstanding gentlemanSo successful that the busy-ness call can’t wait until off the train.Perfectly robotic speech attaining high honors in the magazine of New York life.One more quick call to set up a meeting with pals for happy hourPerfectly pristineSet to the exact New England pace that has infiltrated the world.Protein powders and power bars masquerading as foodand coffee martinisServing as the requirement for hydration.Soul death and gravel white washing of authentic natural life.Vinyl panels pretending at shutters and flickering water-showers greening the turf.How far to go to be fed:  no longer outside my door.Drive through take-out along picket fences and stone walls.Conventional food has become chemicalyzed GMO puke pink tomatoes while“Normal” folks shunOrganic as the new yuppy-hippy corn movement and too expensive for my dollar menu mentality.“Food that doesn’t kill ya” mustBe registered by the FDA for a not so nominal fee, while factory farm subsidies pay to poison our rice with arsenic and pink sludge our arteries.Agricultural hijacking made legal and,mainstreamed zapping the brain of human advertisers washed to belittle the nightshade: YES; the one that has not been grown in the Florida sand and fakely fertilized to imposter the deficit.The science experiment we call food.Bible belting advocates against our own best interestThe political genius of the century.Don’t take my guns and leave me defenseless to diabetes, cancer, asthma and combustible water faucets.Chop down those treesThe silent gods and goddess that do nothing but give us breatheValuing the cul-de-sac overthe babbling brook, wonderlust woods, generous garden and fabulous farms.Quenching our yes for real life, while our ankles dangle,Slushing around in the sludge we created roboticallyoblivious to stepping outside to take inthe vacant lot that once tempted our vessel.