Just What Is In Our Food These Days? Poem by Al. Manacial

Once upon a Time
before the white-man's turgid crime
when buffalo roamed the plains sublime
wild warriors hunting in their prime
screamed and shouted, this is mine
and took it home, for all to dine
upon the meat so rare and fine
Not knowing there would come a time
when pressure-blasted, pink-coloured slime
was served up like the rarest kind
of meat we'd scarcely dream to find
except we didn't really mind,
what garbage on our plate to find
or lost the reason to define
when standing with the rest in line
and getting to the front say mine
comes with fries and a coke, please