There Is No Spoon...

These days they serve us our Culture out of drive-through windows with lickety-split service

Amnesia deep fried on a daily basis..

smothered in gravy with a biscuit on the side..

Bleeding fingers from picking cotton bolls smear a red and white striped logo 

Onto buckets like the ones they use to sling us ears, entrails,

Tails and feet...

Keeping the better cuts for themselves to eat.

Today they use the buckets to sling us family meals with menu deals -

So be sure you use that little towelette on your fingers after you lick away memories of plantation blueprints

Used to plot the placement of slave shacks next to the animal troughs that slaves used as the kitchen table...

It's cool that they give us those little black plastic spoons so carefully packaged with napkins so we can scoop all the macaroni and cheese out of those styrofoam bowels that are eating away our atmosphere.

Today the slave quarters have vanished like traumatic memories and when archaeologists dig through the ruins, they realize in wonderment that slaves never had any spoons.

They only find clamshell shards and plates made from bark. 

So they surmise that they use to scoop dinner out of those troughs - racing to eat against the family dogs

But that big old mansion is certainly still there...

And if you squint just a little bit you can see the Colonel sitting on the porch in a white suit and string tie sipping on the mint julep and gazing thoughtfully at his secret mulatto children -

As they run back and forth to the kitchen window sniffing at the chicken they can't eat because it's mostly white meat.

We think we done got outta Egypt but we're still wandering riotously through desserts chasing gold idols.

So high off of 11 herbs and spices, we've forgotten our own original recipes

But my great grandma mother taught me to see the future told by tossing chicken bones

They say we can still get to the promised land one day

But first we go find our way out of that drive through parking lot...