I avidly avoid anything to do with this produce aisle
and can mange little more than an apprehensive smile
at the pearly white sight of an egg obviously manufactured
for those who have never seen one
I am bemused by the thought of a banana, yellow brown or a green one
or a pineapple that surely made it’s way here by some nefarious means
and I stare apprehensively, pensively,
at a pair of pears that I know has been preemptively plucked by a machine,
bred in captivity not for any more useful property than that particular hue of green.
It’s obscene.
But man cannot live by bread alone,
unable now even to provide for his own,
except it seems commanded,
as long as the bread the man gives you back the rights to is properly branded.
