Fast Food Junkie

(collab of Shaman and Prophet)


I got a few bucks in my pocket and my tummy’s all rumbly
Let’s take a gamble and throw a couplla dollars down
like a pair of dice at a craps game
Life’s a crapshoot, and you get what you pay for,
yet, often, not even that
Empty calories offer empty promises for now,
to stave off the hunger
Only, just wait for it, the curse is yet to come
My gut won’t know what hit it

A quick fix is what I seek to feed my addiction
The drive-thru is the addict’s easy access, with no face time needed
just the voice of a god that consoles to me through a speaker and a big screen menu
Hands that feed take my change with mechanical repetition
The institution passes out PhDs in obesity and complacency like they're going out of style
It rapes my resolve and strips me of the natural path to godliness
It subverts my impulses by plastering my vision with sales gimmicks
and pop culture fodder that’s fed to me by powerful figures
who preach in front of green screens of perception

Unnatural chemicals pumped into my food to improve flavor
This takes away from the fact that I’m consuming crap
Fried fat, fried in hot grease,
to sit around and hang cold sticking to this deep fried Bullshit.
The price you pay is more than that loose change,
jingling around in your pocket
The integrity of your physical body is at stake
This drug known as “fast food” is the cross-generational crack
The hobo on the corner holds up a card board sign,
saying, “just a few bucks for crack.”
Then with no shame, walks into the big burger joint
And throws down his winnings to feed his fix

In strategizing sessions with Champagne-sipping playboys
and shining bright salesmen of the year, according to Forbes Magazine
big wig money grubbers in Armani suites and taco bar cologne
plan their next big onslaught of my personal wellbeing
with no concern for my life or my arteries
Their sole objective is to inject sales pitches and questionably graded filler into my veins
with a guise of top quality food and ‘service with a smile’ attitudes
Figureheads for these ‘covered in money monsters’ take center stage
with painted faces and a friendly ‘you can trust me’ demeanor
Even my kids are not beyond their reach, in fact, they’re a prime target
My children can’t sleep without snuggling up to their clown dolls
and they can’t eat a meal that isn’t ‘happy’
or use utensils without recognizable logos and mental image-induced symbols
As they consume their crap, they crave the devil speaking to them through the TV
overfeeding false dreams and insanely salty notions of pleasure

Symbols shoved into my mind,
as an elite oligarchy of corporate perversion
Tries to rule mind, body and soul of the ‘lower classes’
The king and his castle wait in the limelight
for a redheaded girl, with pigtails in tow,
With slogans such as
“our fast food isn’t as bad as their fast food”
A smiling star waits with an inflated cowboy hat
And a southern Colonel in the woodworks
A burrito bell rings out in the distance
And in my space, in my face,
shines two yellow arches
The big M. (Murder)
Down in a rainforest,
these chains are raping the Earth, again
Good old slash and burn,
to make way for cattle in high density feed lots,
Running over this ground
and leeching all the minerals from the soil,
Reducing a once magical grand jungle to dust and desert

I’ve sealed my fate by giving into the easy solution to the nightly question, “What’s for dinner?”
If the chain shacks, with their jigsaw cutout stucco frames
didn’t make themselves so readily available and inexpensive, I’d probably starve
I depend on their late night hours, after binge drinking solo
or after the occasional spontaneous street corner tryst
I hear the bell toll, and I see the glow of the magic arches from miles away
with unhindered x-ray vision, because I know what to look for and where to go
As a result, my ability to prepare meals for myself is nil
In futile attempts at kicking my trash consumption habit, I resort to mac and cheese
or frozen Hungry Man dinners that offer nothing to quell my appetite
except doses upon doses of sodium that lie in wait
ready to rot my pathways from their insides out
But it’s okay. I voluntarily abuse my body by ingesting nothing but crap
to see exactly how far I can go
how much tosh I can take before I decay from malnutrition
When the end comes, I’ll be comforted by the fact that I assisted in prolonging the devil’s snare
so that kids for generations and fat lazy adults can feast off of society’s garbage
while those who actually care about their bodies
and respect them by limiting the nonsense they consume
suffer the humiliation of living with these cows of humankind

Wait. Listen.
This mass marketed food is my medication.
It may be poisoning me a little every day,
but I need it to survive
Yes, the side effects are horrendous,
I’ll grant you that.
No doubt.
The warning list goes on and on,
like the disclaimer at the end of a drug commercial
Super Sized heart attacks waiting to happen.
High blood pressure, bad cholesterol, early onset of obesity
Increases the chance of acquiring juvenile diabetes.
Yes, the list of side effects goes on and on.
I know all this.
Yet, I need it.
My three main diagnoses: Fast, Cheap and Easy.
I’ll live with the side effects
For I know that my medicine is a poison.
These chemicals I’m ingesting are my drug
and I will not suffer the come down
No withdrawals for me, thank you.
Yes, I can read the calorie content now
And I will still order that burger that fills my needs for a week.
I have to have my fix.
I’m a fast food junkie.
And I need to have my order filled.

As I reflect upon the empty calorie meal at my dinner table
I realize that I’m the main course
The system in place has cooked my will
until it has been deemed deep fried and burnt to a crisp
I exist no longer for myself
but as a robotic disposal for repeating the motions of ‘garbage in, garbage out’
until my life is extinguished
My natural body has become plasticized
with ingredients developed by corporate scientists within unknown laboratories
and coined as ‘secret sauce’, advertised with catchy grammar and enticing pictorials
associated with sex, youth and fitness
I am the slave to them as I ingest the filth that lessens my years
When I die, I will not decay
My body will be transformed
by the processed feed that is sold in cheaply priced family packs
Instead my corpse will reside in the depths, in dirt
mortified with the stench of forever grease and sodium sweat
It will remain forever poisoning the flowers
and rotting the soil of all nutrients until the world passes from time
the golden arches and corporate cheese will melt away into the void
and a new food revolution will be born organic