Monday, May 25, 2015

Manhattan Sonnet - Living Here With No Money

Living here with no money is like going
   To battle with no air support—it sucks
Hot rivets.  You’re not fighting—you’re just throwing
   Yourself against a door that only bucks
Can buy you entry to; and when it’s closed,
   You’re outside looking in—a wannabe—
A poor sad fool whose fortune’s been foreclosed—
   A starving brute beneath a fruitless tree.
Is money that important here?  Is breath
   What our lungs need to live?  It’s the same thing:
You cut both off and it’s a gasping death;
   You let them flow and we keep soldiering.
      From grunt to REMF, we share the same condition:
      Money’s not just a tool—it’s ammunition.


Copyright 2015 Matthew J Wells


Molly said...

Yup. Distressingly true now, although it was not always so.

G.Ray said...

An ugly fact of life in our current America.