Rude Assumptions

Yesterday I saw a heard of children,
and it may not be my place to judge,
but upon review of their dirty clothes,
their fat bodies and crooked teeth,
smudged faces and fingers in their noses.
I made the rude assumption,
that these children were raised and tended,
by second-hand smoke and daytime TV,
soda pop and Pokemon.

Yesterday I saw the mom and dad,
the creators of that heard of children,
I knew it was the parents,
I could see it in their fat bodies,
the crooked teeth.
I made the rude assumption,
that these parents were raised and tended,
by Keystone Ice and unemployment checks,
a fierce hand and a shorter temper.

Two generations of Americana,
loving each other dearly,
dragging their knuckles in the dirt,
breathing through their mouths,
that sick dog-shit breath.