Page 52 - WTP Vol. V #1

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The wicked seed is us. None of us are inculpable in the conspiracy against trueness and legitimacy. Let us go inform the bees ninety-three percent of their kind are declared redundant.
A Lamentation: Honey
Of the things that take me back when I’m sick for home, biscuits never fail me. If they’re a little flaky, and there’s salty butter to be had,
I am transported and a happy man,
however temporarily. On this trip,
I was glad for the extra treat of honey, though in little individual packages both convenient and, after inspection,
suspect. Being alone, a little bored, and naturally a label reader, I made the mistake (if you can call it that, though I’m better off finding out) of checking out the ingredients:
high fructose corn syrup, honey 7%.
I eyed the good biscuit in my hand, bites taken, soaked in the trickery
of modern day factory black magic fake food, tasting past the sweetness into the subtleties now, separating down the elements distributed over my palate, searching out the true food of the gods somewhere in this mouthful of breakfast. Of all things
to pervert, to bastardize in the world, who could dream up sins like this against the blameless work of bees?
Does some seed of evil require that even innocent honey be corrupted
to contribute to our obese mortality?
larry d. ThackEr