A poem for my friend. Just cuz.

 
“I don’t like vegetables,” Sally sneered

looking like a first-grader

 

Her grandparents had a farm and a dry-goods store

Sally did not partake

 

She spared her children the trial of brussels sprouts

the tribulations of runaway squash

 

Yet they learned somehow to savor a salad

Their kids—her grandkids—raised free from sugar,

 

hormone-tainted milk, the injustice of white flour,

bound up Sally’s front porch steps

 

devour her hot apple pie,

fresh from McDonald’s.