“A Less-Nice Tale Of Towed-Tyke” Tanka 2356


(June 13, 2019)

she pulls up in new

SUV, does not ‘butt’ smoke

and tugs two young boys

toward the ‘free breakfast-lunch

signs: the menu’s child abuse!*

*(At the library here in Sanford it’s just lunch – sugary and salty and crunchy – but elsewhere it’s a continuation of US Department of Agriculture commodity-controlled free breakfast and lunch (free? someone paid, no? Guess who? You) for those under 19 years-of-age which has grown out of reduced- or free-fare for breakfasts and lunches in our public schools. And not just for walk-in or bike-in or skateboard-in kids but those clamboring out of clamshell SportsUtilityVehicles if not brand new then so close as to make little diff. Seems poverty is more of parentlessness than of parents’ pride in jones-keeping. If they did not allow their progeny to stay up past Johnny Carson (classical reference: lookitup!) they could have kids ‘roused in time for shower and slurp at table as a possible dad rushes past for a quick peck and a sausage and egg sammich which did not come via a drive-thru. but then I display my cultural insensitivity and lack of semi-pro political scabs calling themselves sensitivities. With one of the major food pyramids (so, tell me, when did the pie chart die?) tied into chips or crunchies or cookies, where did the soft buttery rolls go and hide? No eggs except putatively put into the fillings of whatwasthatagain? newfound ways to process and over the next snack food of incredible nutrative value? Of course in any five-day follow of menu one finds the obligatory celery and carrot conditions called “sticks” and the half-pint (one presumes) of milk which caused me and my brothers at school lunches to buy three additionals, much to gentle smile on Mrs. Fessler’s beam. Today: a fruit medley cup. A cup? – only if you call a triple-thumb-width not even past-the-knuckle-deep a cup. What? No sprinkles? Surely someone should call a congresscritter or a federal departmental secretary’s secretary! Meanwhile, mom and two boys are ‘most free from the ciggy-smoke-filled tortoise and – right on time – take to the feeding station just past the front door but still another door from The Books!. Wanna bet they do not stop for books after?

Actually, a composite. With a side of conjecture. The modern version of vignette-snacking.)

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