Across from me
Desert green tea
Nothing green about it though
Except the tint of the can...
Over there from me
The bag of cookies
Automated grandma
Adding inch to the seam
Waste to the dream;
My children look like adults
Talk like adults
Have no concept
Like
Adults
As I trace it back
To not enough home-cooked meals
And the fact that mama
Needed more than pickles
With real iced-cream
But a side of fries
Washed down
By that slimy green can
Heavy with the should-a
Blessed by the could-a
Paid for with a would-a
But it's right down the block
And at the end of the day
Shit
Right now it's cheaper...
©2009clarencecbess
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