08-04-2024, 10:49 PM
Internal Debate
When I cashed the check
I told the teller, “I won this money
for a poem I wrote.”
“Well, bully for you,” she joked.
Fifty bucks won’t go far
toward a week’s worth of food-
my cart was still empty-
I was in a bad mood.
Then I saw junky George
in the grocery store. I knew
he’d be holding- he knew
I’d be looking to score.
So I checked out with one
can of tuna, one loaf of bread-
blew the rest on some smack
to calm my muscles and head.
(completely fictitious story/poem)
When I cashed the check
I told the teller, “I won this money
for a poem I wrote.”
“Well, bully for you,” she joked.
Fifty bucks won’t go far
toward a week’s worth of food-
my cart was still empty-
I was in a bad mood.
Then I saw junky George
in the grocery store. I knew
he’d be holding- he knew
I’d be looking to score.
So I checked out with one
can of tuna, one loaf of bread-
blew the rest on some smack
to calm my muscles and head.
(completely fictitious story/poem)