Ration
Reality is rising out of the earth, mixing water with dirt, the children are playing in the mud from morning until sun down and the crisis in the street have disrupted the long awaited peace, and I patiently watched their short lived freedom evaporating in thin cold air.
They once bore the amour of truth from the days of their youth but with the passing of time, wisdom has crossed over to the other side and reality runs like mad men through the street.
You don’t know the price of goods for you have been living in the woods, raisin buns have gone up and the eagle bread is soaring in the sky. The prices are way out of reach and it is hard to compete; anxiety is running throughout the town and the hustlers are running around looking for cheap barging.
Food is going to be rationed again, run and tell your friend, get ready for the big overhaul, it is going to make some people bawl, a pound of chicken for ten American dollars, a pound of steak for twelve dollars, eggs for six dollars a dozen, rice, flour, sugar and cornmeal for three dollars and fifty cents per pound, oatmeal for six dollars and fifty cents per pack and seawater fish for five dollars a pound what more can I say when reality stares you in the face, you have to do something before it’s too late.
Come and share your bread with me and I will make your dream come true, come and share your bread with me and enjoy my company. The people are coming out of the lion’s den, they are looking for new friends, one bread to feed a family of five; and there peace and love will abide.
There is just not enough for everyone and reality is singing a different song so meet me at the garden center before noon because my family and friends will be coming home soon.
I have to buy buckets, mops, bleach, and detergent to clean out the place and air freshener to neutralize the mouly smells in the corners. I need garden rakes and brooms, a big shovel and a wheel barrow, we are going to clean inside out and we are going to make the devil shout; I need board hammers and nails to keep the dogs behind the gate so meet me at the garden center before it’s too late.
Copyright © Christine Phillips | Year Posted 2025
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