TheWarning

1.
At the Poetry Factory everybody's feeling
the pressure. "The Surgeon General's
given us a warning," says Mr. Po Biz
over the loud speaker. "Too much nicotine,
preservatives, saccharine. He says
we gotta cut down. People are dying!"
The factory line stops. Workers wipe
sweaty faces. They stare at the speakers.

2.
Mr. Po Biz straightens his tie and sits
at the table to sample the new line.
Scientists in lab coats wheel the new
poems in.
      The Loneliness Poems are now fried
in sunflower oil. "They're so light
and fluffy. Not heavy. No, not heavy
at all," says Mr. Po Biz.
              The I Hate
My Mother Poems have filters, low tar,
no menthol.
    The packs of Lean Ground
Political Poems now come with new
labels: "Meat is done when all juices
are clear, not bloody. Always wash
thoroughly after handling uncooked
meat."

3.
Mr. Po Biz watches the factory floor
from his office window. Things have been
cleaned up. The workers wear goggles,
plastic work suits, rubber gloves. He sits
back in his leather chair and lights a cigar.