‘Wich Wars
Keeping it on the cutting board
“Come join our club,”
Said the slice on the right.
“We’ve got bacon and poultry —
A bountiful bite.
If you want, we’ll sub oysters
Or salmon or crab.
Life is short, live it up,
Let the plebs pay the tab.
You can bathe in aioli
By way of Provence.
Hit the infrared toaster
To buff up your bronze.
There’s no end to the pleasures
Of sauces and meat.
Trust this breadwinner
Milled from the highest-grade wheat.
Plus, we’ll cut in some cheddar
To sharpen the deal.
Why not savor the taste
Of a luxury meal?”
“Oh, c’mon,” said the left slice,
Fed up with the speech.
“That’s just dressed-up baloney
And gross overreach.
All that meat they endorse
Has been sourced from a farm
Where the livestock’s in pens,
Knowing nothing but harm.
That emulsion they claim
As an opulent treat
Is a mere flavored mayo
Picked up down the street.
As for stock, they’re not whole grain
But white bread enriched
By a vitamin pack
From a chemistry kitch’.
If you want to avoid
Crusty views and stale lies,
Try our mouthful of
Moral cuisine on for size.
We’ve got rainbow tomatoes,
Matured on the vine.
They’re organic and heirloom —
A true-breed divine.
All the fare that we offer
Is sown to sustain,
From our sea salt ’n’ pepp’
To our crunchy romaine.”
Said the slice in the center,
“Now wait just a tick.
We’re all from the same loaf,
Share the same frilly stick.
There’s no need to be puffed-up,
Bleached, yeasty or greedy.
No matter the incline,
This bread-off sounds kneady.
Neither side is red-letter —
We’re bargain blue plate.
Join us all if you like,
As we share the same fate.
Whether quartered or halved,
Served with slaw or with soup,
We’ll be chewed and digested
By gastric-made goop.
To my fellow carb-holders —
Don’t pander or moan.
It’s distasteful. Besides,
There’s no club on one’s own.”
