AMERICA’S UNCONSTITUTIONAL GRILL

AMERICA’S UNCONSTITUTIONAL GRILL
By Bob McNeil

Near the counter,
    One seat away from a guy named Uncle Sam,
    I sat in America’s Unconstitutional Grill,
    Notorious for its discrimination special.
    Recollections took my psyche traveling
    Throughout gripped and whipped generations.
    I remembered Sam’s culture-ramming family
    Capturing my kin
    And reducing them to abused horses
    In a round pen.
My temper went from a semiautomatic pistol
    To a ballistic missile.
    Around then
    My anger could have leveled
    America’s Unconstitutional Grill.
Right before my left was going to punch Sam
    So his teeth would meet a dirt heap
    ‘Neath some table’s feet,
    Non-Caucasian children came in.
    They ordered cheeseburgers.
     A spoiled-cream-distasteful waitress,
     Wearing a hairnet,
     Said, “The Grill did not get
    The School Budget Tomato Sauce yet.”
Judging from the way
     Their liveliness took a graveyard turn,
     Non-Caucasian children did learn
     Unconcern made their meals burn.
According to other non-Caucasian patrons,
    There was not much pepper
    In the House and Senate stew.
    Non-Caucasian patrons spat discontent
    Over the cop-frisked pork biscuits
    Accompanying assorted penal-smelly vittles.
Seconds from leaving America’s Unconstitutional Grill,
    Despite my refusal to select a speck,
    The waitress tossed me a check.
    After I tabulated
    Subjugation's cost,
    I told the ashy cashier,
    “Get the damn owners to atone
    And reimburse for every year
    My people spent here.”