“Buttercup,” a poem by Mary Lou Meyers

This is Earth Day, Every Day #3 offering in the form of a poem, to drive home the idea that fake foods or Frankenfoods, as they are called,  are not good for our bodies or the environment. The pictures are from my walk in the neighborhood during our “instant spring” a couple of weeks ago.

“Do you like butter?”  my playmate asked,
and held a buttercup under my chin.
It spread around like a yellow buttery grin.
Perhaps the gold overlay was enough
to make me savor life as well,
every thing I touched.
Nothing gold can stay. *
Even the streets of America were not paved in gold,
my mother said, but hard work.
“I didn’t come to America for the fake spread, “
required artificial coloring to give it the right shade.
So we lined up during rationing,
learned to differentiate.
She clung to butter for its life-giving nutrients
to her dying day, so many gave it a bad name.
I gave it up, it’s rich cholesterol display,
no longer the overlay of my life,
the penalty I would have to pay
substitutes instead of the real stuff.
Nothing is sacred now, not even cows,
we have been reduced to “Pink Slime,”
finely textured beef shaved from the bones
with ammonia added as security to prevent E. coli,
but what about Mad Cow Disease?

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