Poem

Some people are just freer
than you are. Deal with it.
Personally, I don’t care.
Impersonally, I don’t care.

When I look at the way
mushrooms come into my home!
They’re naked & just covered with dirty dirt,
flaunting it through their clear shrink-wrap,

their thirst-trap selves, I could scream.
But I don’t scream. I just fridge them.
I don’t phone Congress about it.
Later, I will wash and saute them.

“INGREDIENTS: Mushrooms.”
See? It doesn’t even mention the dirt.
The packaging presumes you know about earth,
unlike the highly-armed shepherd waifs of Congress.