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39 Cents of Gold




It seems like today,
everybody wants all the
best shit
sports cars with the leather interior,
gormet lobsters served
(on top of) $70 Salisbury Steak
Private pre-schools and
even more exclusive colleges
the most expensive whiskey
foreign cigarettes
and homes that sit atop
hills of (black)gold
with a million
and one
bathrooms.

Those people are lost
and incapable of making decisions
not calculable in
dollar bills:
Fuck Them.

Little do they know
about life,
about living
about schwag on a sunday morning
or $4 champagne or Marlborough Red's
let them have their expensive ass cake
and eat it too
while you sit on your hill
that looks like all the others
appreciating the finer things
life has to offer.

I bought a nice journal
or stole it, or something.
and not a single beautiful poem,
or thought, or dream
came out
there was just too much
pressure to be perfect
it weighed down my writing hand

but only now do I know:

that I have never been
happier with my 39 cent
spiral.
AND
that perhaps,
we define the
finer things in life
for ourselves.

Fuck the Big Other.

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