Cart Blanched

Shopping for food now requires a degree
There are so many things to assess
Are others confused or is it just me?
There are issues one has to address
Is it organic, yes that is okay
No pesticides harming our soil
But wait a minute it's flown a long way
And used up gallons of oil
Free of fat and gluten
That’s good should I assume?
But all the experts are disputin’
Which is the best to consume
The labels are too tiny to read
I’m starting to get in a rage
And what this I hear about animal feed
And calves cramped up in a cage?
I want to be healthy I want to be kind
But it seems an uphill battle
Why is a good meal a problem to find
Without worries of going mad cattle
Time’s moving on I look down at my cart
I only have packets of rice
Well of my risotto at least that’s a start
And everyone says that it's nice
But on my phone I just got a text
Saying that there’s a petition
I just don’t believe it, whatever next
It says rice workers have malnutrition?
Maybe our lunch should just be a pill
Is that such a silly suggestion
It won’t taste of much but won’t make you ill
And we’d have no need of digestion
Until that time I’ll accept defeat
Will there ever be a change?
If not I might to an island retreat
And label myself free range!

Hair Today

Today I'm having my hair done, she'll greet me with a smile
We'll both look in the mirror as I specify a style
First of all we head to the sink for a good shampoo
You try to adjust your neck as the water first runs through
"Is that temperature OK?" is the usual standard line
Even if it's much too hot, you answer that it's fine
Now she starts with the scissors, clipping every tress
You notice all the girls around in stages of undress
Flicking through a magazine you try not to look worried
Did she listen to what you said, she does seem rather hurried
As the hairdryer starts you have a sinking feeling
Is hair sticking out like a toilet brush in any way appealing?
And so the deed is done, she's beaming like a cat
You see another woman and think 'I wanted that'
Time to say goodbye, now regretting every snip
You tell her you are happy and give a generous tip
Thinking you'll find another to take care of your mane
The funny thing is when its time, you go to her again!

Full Screen Ahead

If aliens came down from space

And looked at the human race

Not long after leaving our bed

They’d see us sitting and staring ahead

In comfortable seating

Facebooking and Tweeting

Then seeing what everyone’s said

And so then it is time for employment

To leave our mindless enjoyment

But are we all heading off for the soil?

And engaging in strenous toil

No it’s the same old scene

As we sit at the screen

There is little energetic deployment

The aliens are all waiting to see

The human evening activity

Will we perhaps play the flute

Or dissect a small newt?

But again we are seated

The pattern’s repeated

From the screens we never seem free

If they returned after three generations

Will we all be zombied crustaceans?

Would books all be tossed

And reality lost

Or will the screens be rejected

And new life injected

As we again feel nature’s vibrations