Each time I go off to the
market in town,
There’s something I see,
Which brings to my face a
terrible frown.
It annoys me and it’s getting
me down.
I feel they’re treating me
like I’m a clown.
It’s when I see the label
organic,
That I enter a mood near to
panic,
And people nearby think that
I’m manic.
It’s when I read the back of
the label,
That it alarms me.
For in among all the country
fable,
Is all the truth that’s not
on the table.
This really ought to bug and
annoy you,
That even in summer, and this
is not new,
Green beans are being flown
in from Peru .
What madness is this that
they are doing?
To fool us all badly.
It’s causing pollution we’ll
be ruing,
On this planet that’s now
started stewing.
There’s trouble ahead that
we’re brewing.
We can’t go on madly.
We’re killing seasonality and
taste,
Raising food in too much
hurry & haste,
Leaving behind us trails of
carbon waste.
I don’t want hormones or
drugs in my meat:
It’s not natural.
Nor genetically modified wheat,
But nor do I want a planet
that’s beat,
Or a climate that will soon
over-heat.
But we’re exhausting what’s
left of the land,
And it’s time that we took it
back in to hand,
Before the time comes that
it’s panned.
The supermarkets must share
in the blame,
With their approach.
They are taking us for fools
in this game,
And their excuses are
becoming more lame.
They ought to be reddening in
their shame,
For covering up all of these
airmiles,
And all of their plastic
packaging guiles.
I’m putting their marketing
in the frame,
Cos knobbly veggies taste
just the same.
They don’t need to be perfect
& straight,
To be edible.
Nor do they need to have a
sell-by date.
We can work it out at our own
rate,
Whether it’s best to eat now,
or to wait.
But I’d certainly object if I
could,
That farmers’ markets
shouldn’t try to be good,
And charge more for carrots
covered in mud.
This whole thing’s become
tattered and frayed,
At the edges.
Words like “free-range” and
“pure” have become greyed,
And nobody’s sure any more
what’s Fairtrade,
Or who’s making the profits
or being paid.
There’s something confusing
about food,
Where real meanings have
become skewed,
And the labels try to shape
our attitude.
Wasn’t all food once
“organic” and real?
Or am I naïve?
What we want back right now
is the real deal,
With veggies that you can
fondle & feel.
Let’s get rid of the packages
and labels,
Get the stuff all laid out on
the tables,
And banish this
marketing-house Babel .
So let’s have dirty spuds and
bent parsnips,
And let us get back to having
real chips.
Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2016
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