Behind Your Order

I know,

you don’t think of it

as harming me,

you don’t think 

of me at all

You don’t have

to look me

in the eyes

You often don’t 

have to look

anyone in the eyes

“A cheeseburger 

with fries,”

you tell the

electronic machine, 

after someone you

can’t see says,

“May I take your

order please?”

Wrapped in a bun,

with lettuce on top,

and passed to you

through the next 

window up

I’m a sandwich to you

I never cross your mind

You don’t wonder 

for one moment

about the life 

behind my eyes

You’ve made it so easy

to not have to care,

to keep hidden 

from your eyes

your discomfort,

our despair

So you chomp

on my body

without even

one thought

about the life 

that you take

when your order

comes up

15 Dec 2018