The Vegans are coming by Julie Hamel

From the potato famine
To the Big Mac
From home grown beans
To mass production
From butter to margarine and to the very heart of our
Hydrogenated life styles
We are the foodies who decide on
Flavours, textures and scents

We are the food gurus who preach and claim
Like scripture from the bible

We are the vegans
The trim fits
The macro-biotics
The vegetarians, Jenny Craigs and herbal life
The atkins and south beach believers
The weightwatchers that want to be fit for life
The gobblers of Garcenia Cambodgia,
low carbs, high protein, nutri system,
Obsessed by size zero
Setting the table for the last supper

We sit before empty plates because
we are terrified by the next morsel that could be
GMO – OMG backwards!

Processed is the new Satan
High sugar aspartame hormone injected

We sit in fear of food
In our western countries where famine
has been eradicated, obesity the new killer whale,
Where eating disorders are the soup du jour
While starvation is a reality elsewhere
And eating ONE meal a day is a luxury.
Such arrogance!

Food propaganda propagates and sprouts
Buy Local! Eat Organic! Eat green!
For or against with a string of arguments,
Transposing southern habits to the North
Northern habits to the tropics
Preaching a fruit diet to people
who cannot grow them in the snow

We are the self-proclaimed gods
of the ultimate diets that promise
Eternal life or else
Crucifixion by bagel

To eat…
Bludgeoned by a bumbleberry pie or
Stoned to death by sugar cubes and truffles…
Or not to eat?

Food stares back from the mirror in the shape
of diet coke cans and energy drinks
With additives adding more of the less
disguised as a word you can’t pronounce

Sugar and spice does bite back

To eat or not to eat is a mean affair
Of politics or beliefs

We do not eat meat
Nor eggs for fear of cholesterol
We do not eat seafood for fear of mercury
Cheese for fear of fat
Breads for fear of gluten
Fresh fruit for fear of pesticides
Sweets for fear of diabetes
Nuts for fear of allergies
Wine for fear of sulphites

We keep food diaries
We recite food mantras
We count calories and toxins
We have traded off Sunday night family
dinners with all the trimmings
For drive-throughs or take-outs

We have forgotten the sacred
meaning behind breaking bread,
Kneading it before-hand with love
slowly
patiently
like an offering of peace, a gift to hunger.

We will never feast again.

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