The Almighty Dirty Dollar
Wake up Slave.
Do not be late or the master will beat you with the whip of unemployment
Dress in a sophisticated suit
Impress the overcompensated boss
Despite your feelings of undeniable disdain
Businessmen drink another cup a Joe,
Maybe overtime will be tolerable
Grocery store cashier
Wear a pretty smile and a dirty apron
Regardless how the greedy consumer acts
Backbone is grounds for termination
Stripper
Remove your revealing attire for the drunk and horny
He waves a buck, scoff and moves towards the champagne room where it rains twenties Or hails quarters
Millionaire
Count the millions of sins committed for greenbacks
Digest the delicious disease of greed
Remember a Mercedes makes you better than the poor
We’re all working hard for the one controlling necessity
The Almighty Dirty Dollar
Glass Houses
They say that I try too hard
That I make a big deal,
That all I do is worry,
Perhaps-
But I see society as an unstable structure
That we need to build upon every day
Or it will crumble before our eyes.
When you don’t say please
Thank you
Or sorry
I want to punch you in the face
I want to take back my nice gesture
And spit on your discourteous desolate heart
But
I would not want to compromise my values
For something so petty
And small
As you
I tip well
Not because I am rich,
Or have something to prove,
But because it is the right thing to do
I open doors for others, and say thank you when they are opened for me
I always say excuse me
I remain polite,
Retain my manners
And
Revel in the fact that I am better than the trash that does the opposite
Queen of the Clouds
She walks on clouds of vagrant velvet
Lined with exotic silver streaks
Looking down on a pitiful planet
And sees me,
The delusional cast away with little to offer
Just pretty words and simple trinkets of proposed admiration
The soft texture of her skin hides her insides
A cold heart that yearns to be warm again
A soul unfulfilled
Lungs that gasp for knowledge, prosperity
The desire to change an uncompromising and ugly situation
We are all dead today
Lifeless zombies starved of creativity
Somehow set into stone
I know I can break this rock
But not alone
I need her poetic compassion to guide me
Through the silver lined clouds of her existence.
Forlorn
Pieces of my life
Slowly slip through bandaged appendages
They say;
When it rains it pours
Well,
Noah must be building another arc these days
I pace through this desolate apartment building
Waiting for a response
From my last text message to you;
It never comes
It’s not lonely-
When her cats need their supper
And I can’t find the meow mix
Only because
She always was in charge of that
It’s not lonely-
When the wine pushes painkillers past my tonsils
And
I climb the staircase with a dislocated patella
Sliding in and out of place
It’s not lonely-
When I open up our closet door
To get an extra blanket to sleep with
And hear the sound of unused plastic hangers
Smacking against each other,
Her dresses and pretty blouses use to dull the noise
No it’s not lonely-
Until I crawl drunk into bed
The scent of Pantene on the pillows
Lingering
Like our first kiss at the crooked picnic table
Like making love after running through sprinklers
Like the three years it took you to say goodbye
I stretch my arm outwards with my eyes closed
Hoping to touch your soft flat stomach
Or
Feel the warmth of your breath against my neck…..
It’s going to be a very cold night
Push
It’s been days since I’ve slept
The sun seems brighter
My eyes lost all focus
The muscles behind the iris is growing weak
All of the conversations seem rehearsed
In this state, I’m susceptible to anything
I wander the halls
Searching for a cup of coffee
A dose of sugar
An energy drink
I quit smoking months ago
Just to start up again here and now
The butterflies
That circle inside my empty stomach lining
Have butterflies, which have little baby butterflies…I’m nervous
But confident
Back through a set of double doors
To a set of double doors
To an elevator
That leads to a set of double doors
The room I finally arrive in is full
Of people
Of screams
Of an odor so pungent my nose bleeds
I look down at this shell of a woman
Both of us dizzy and exhausted
Then I join in with the screaming and yelling
The grunts… the moans….
I tell her this is how it is
To hold on
Breath
Everything will be okay if you stay calm
Hair
Eyes
Nose
Mouth
Neck
Body
I grab the ball of blood acceptingly
Our eyes match, both crystal blue and full of tears
A first glance of a new life.
A new love.
Kira.
Metal Monsters
Steel demons strike under a starless sky
Cops only leave the doughnut shop
When riots break out
The baton battalion of Chittenden Avenue
Break up yet another harmless keg party
Power is corruption
The devil with a blue dress carries a badge
He preaches to all the children in regards to the new way
Everyone ignores police brutality
Except those it inflicts
Tear gas kisses and rubber bullet sex sessions caress the youth
We’re all getting fucked by the system
Dance in your goodie two shoes little one
Soon the song shall be over
What will happen then?
Will they applaud you for being boring?
Or shoo you off stage awaiting the next carbon copy to perform
Goodbye
“Miles away”
She Says
“Miles away from here”
There is nothing left except withered flowers
Degraded love
Broken glass tears
-Where ya gonna go-
“New York, New York
Where buildings fall
Broken hearts scream for crazy glue
And every girl is an actress
Away from Ohio Valleys
Columbus Concrete
And boys like you”
“You have no soul Mr. Thompson”
-I love you-
“You lust with every inch, and bruise with every insulting word”
-Goodbye-
Off she goes…to a train…to become a memory,
to become nothing but a blueprint of how I’ll try again
About the Author
Kurt Thompson is a twenty five year old writer who lives in Columbus Ohio.
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