Cow Carcasses and Candy Land
Through a work-study program, I landed my first job at a candy store.
A Willy Wonka wonderland of sorts.
Rows of empty calories and future cavities.
The pay was 2.75 an hour; I'd have worked for free.
Within 3 weeks, I stacked on ten pounds of virgin acne.
A short time before that, I'd interviewed at a meat processing plant.
Took a polygraph test.
Didn't get the job and felt rejected.
The good lord bush wacked me onto a different path.
Led me away from cow carcasses and death.
Straight into the forest of Lord Licorice and Candyland.
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