I am watching the footage of flood tornado
tornado flood ravaged large swaths of our mid-section
that middle America piece of us with a River
a mighty River running through us, be she Mississippi or Missouri
that piece of our land where farmers grow our midsections fat
plant our American midsection fat with corn
that piece of us which takes its lead from Mother.
The greatest Mother. One to be feared, who unleashes her Power and Fury.
Seeing pictures of the people, the average people, the poor people
the basic people of this mid-section…they survive.
They hold on, barely.
They are us, and not lucky.
There but for Grace, Amazing Grace, go I.
These people have all mushroomed in the past 40 to 50 years.
Actually, there is no “these people” as it is All We.
We have all mushroomed.
Compare group photos of US 40 years ago. Bodies now viewed
as almost thin, sleek, fit.
Watching the parade of tragedy and the people affected,
the nightly footage is relentless and almost predictable.
The reporter in L.L.Bean or Columbia wear, crosses a flooded street,
stands in the middle of some tragedy of tangled trees and homes,
showing us the visibly damaged homes, towns, lives
which we get to watch comfortably dry and unscathed
in living rooms on sofas which have also mushroomed.
As I watch, I see the extreme pain, tragedy, suffering
of people who can least afford more pain and hardship
in their too hard lives.
I look and cannot help but also see the disease and disability
which these “unlucky I” concomitantly suffer.
These but for fortune unlucky I
not only suffer their typical daily, weekly survival;
now made worse by Mother River, Mother Rain, Tornado
they suffer too the painful facts of their disease and disability.
The diabetes which eats away bodies as surely as any past plague.
The straining hearts aching from being over larded, aching too from
Mother River, Mother Rain, Tornado’s wrath.
The teen aged girls who are too young to be so large,
their mothers too young to be obese,
and the pregnant men.
All of the men carry at least four month olds, a few are full term.
This over larded midsection carries the ache of loss
and the ache of disease and inflammation.
The fiery burn of stomach acid tossed into mouths made
bitter from unexpected tornado flood loss, and disease.
I watch the nightly view of destruction and ask:
What is wrong with a cultural, societal, group ethic
which believes that the remedy is better than prevention?
We’ve created a multi-billion dollar industry to remedy us.
To fill us with potions and pills to treat our mushrooming midsections.
The remedy industry.
The people who do not question
that popping pills to cure our pains and ills
is an acceptable way to deal with mushrooming disease.
The pill for erectile dysfunction,
for an intestinal tract burning, screaming daily for respite.
For cholesterol, blood pressure, blood sugar
mushroomed too high from our groaning excess.
An industry which accepts the presumption
that mushrooming people is not the problem
rather just treat the results of being over larded.
Cure with a remedy.
One which we’re quite happy to sell you.
We’ll take your money, little as it is.
A cultural normal of remedy rather than prevent
creates entire industries creates employment creates profit
for those who traffic in the pain of others.
Pharmaceuticals employ our educated doctors schooled to
dispense pills
not facts about disrupting the too large midsection’s
cause of inflammation, disease, burning pain.
Our larded mid-sections cause diabetes, heart disease, erectile missteps,
intestinal woes, arthritis, dementia, loss of vision, even cancer.
Pharmaceuticals provide financial security for retirement accounts and
ad agents. Our six o’clock TV ads exhibit the inflamed sufferings
of our midsections, all one cause, remedied with sundry pills.
The 20 second new age tech and networking ads for heartburn, erectile
relief streamed through computer, smart phone.
Please God keep the need for pills to feed our profits.
The hospital-medical industry thrives along with pharmaceuticals.
The one job segment not losing workers to China, India, Singapore.
Affording women decent pay as nurses; medical tech jobs still abound
in markets bereft of hope.
Physicians unschooled, unpaid to teach real relief not gotten from a pill.
Thus the teaching doesn’t happen.
We surrender ourselves to the care of the uncaring.
Who in the national discourse sees the DISCONNECT
between the growing girth of us, the incessant cultural picture
of inactive too doughy icons who use, or will soon need to use
pharmaceutical products.
Who links the growth of our mid-sections with the growth of medical cost?
Our mushrooming bodies yield mushrooming bills, debt,
private, state and federal.
We see eating, having fun having jolly
laughing more jolly reflections of us,
having fun as we down the things
which cause disease and pain.
Who is talking about the insanity of continuing what we have
made readily cheaply available for people to eat.
The too salted, fatted overly refined grains shaped into cleaver
new scoops to hold a newly discovered dip.
The candy everywhere society.
The college and high school campus selling candy
large parents bringing sweet treats for their large star performers.
Sugar, candy, fat, salt, processed is everywhere.
Organizations we trust, we give money to, those paragons whose mission
is to advocate for public health, our health:
American Cancer Society
American Heart Association
American Diabetes Association
Kaiser and worthy others…tell us continually:
EAT MORE FRESH FRUIT AND VEGETABLES.
LESS PROCESSED FOODS AND MEAT.
MORE WHOLE GRAINS. LESS SUGAR. LESS SALT.
LESS FRIED IN FAT WHICH EXACERBATES INFLAMMATION.
The telling, the message, the accepted voice of what we are to do
tells us to consume that which is most difficult to find.
Most costly.
Not easy to prepare when we have forfeited our daily kitchen skills
when we must deal with two jobs to keep us together,
when we must deal with no job and still try to keep us together.
Difficult to find food when one travels away from home, on the road.
Certainly unobtainable after Mother River, Mother Rain, Tornado hit.
What we presently have is hurting us. A DISCONNECT from the reality of need.
Need for icons, systems, cultural supports, cultural norms which afford
relief from disease and pain. Relief from our burgeoning pill box.
I have seen the pain. I continue to see the pain.
We all hurt because of this DISCONNECT.