Attention, Ralphs Malibu shoppers!
You beer-bellied ex-surfers, herb-scented old hippies in Ugg boots,
You Latina nannies who market on charge accounts,
You thousand first wives (squat dowagers who frown
And face-lifted blondes in tight white pants who drink),
You whinnying college kids with implanted cell phones,
You hill dwellers in riding clothes with sun-cracked skin
You retired old goats who kid around with the checkers,
You white-shirted clerks and gray-shirted workmen too late
For more than a quick, soggy sandwich and Styrofoam coffee,
You grandmas who collect signatures outside,
Have you returned, to uncomplicate your lives?
Don’t you know, once they break this union, they’ll break yours?
Don’t you know it’s because the leaders you elect
Let cattle eat cattle, let produce exporters spray alar,
Let monopolies gut the Third Wold in their quest
For ever-cheaper goods they can import
Tariff-free, stamped: Made in the U.S.
Let Government-subsidized megastores spread like cancer,
Bankrupting every city and state they invade
So they can beat Ralphs’ price for tomato soup?
Attention, Ralphs Malibu shopper!
Don’t you hear the bell tolling for you?
J. L. MacDonald