Fight Food

‘Twas the last meter stretch & his enemies were ardent.

He dived to the side just as a lob o’ E. coli cabbage flew by, just missing his head; he long-jumped over the yawning puddle o’ salmonella blood; he raised his tray as a shield Mad Cow milk splashed @ him.

He didn’t stop till he was a’least 5 blocks from school, his chiseled chest heaving up & down.

‘Nother day he made it.

But he knew it wouldn’t last forever.

They’d get him ‘ventually.

That was how they worked: they found your weakness & tried to press you further into it.

‘Cause they want you to lose.


Gymnast, meal, tray