by Craig Santos Perez
Thank you, instant mashed potatoes, your bland taste
makes me feel like an average American. Thank you,
incarcerated Americans, for filling the labor shortage
and packing potatoes in Idaho. Thank you, canned
cranberry sauce, for your gelatinous curves. Thank you,
Ojibwe tribe in Wisconsin, your lake is now polluted
with phosphate-laden discharge from nearby cranberry
bogs. Thank you, crisp green beans, you are my excuse
for eating apple pie à la mode later. Thank you, indigenous
migrant workers, for picking the beans in Mexico’s farm belt,
may your children survive the season. Thank you, NAFTA,
for making life dirt cheap. Thank you, Butterball Turkey,
for the word, butterball, which I repeat all day butterball,
butterball, butterball because it helps me swallow the bones