If food ruled the world, no one would starve.
I know, what does food know about anything. Could I be bored by a burrito or perhaps besieged by a bagel. I am better than food, and I refuse to be steered by a steak. How could I be helped by a gyro when my trans fats need zero.
My every predatory move carefully tracked. Bar codes etched into my collective consciousness, so we wolves don't dine and dash. My lion eyes shielded behind dark lenses so my cutting glances go unnoticed. A swipe of my Air Miles card scratches and tears into the meat of the middle class.
I fight to be heard.
I dance and sing and screw. I crave to live in a world of like-minded creatures. Feasting and devouring the sweet warmth of each other's company. Free to take what we desire and keep what we love. Blood stained incisors dripping with the mechanization that feed us all in an orderly manner. I will be entertained between hunt and pursuit. My appetites will be satiated in comfort and in style.
I am Man, and I am a warrior species.
I am master of my destiny, and diviner of my own fortunes.
If food ruled the world,
we would all know how to fight.
Dabuoy
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