It wasn’t a practical request,
But late stage capitalism
Influences its consumers
And by embracing the fluctuating standards
Of her soul’s pricing department
I guess 20.00 sounded too cheap
To assist in an assassination.
“I’m bored. Can I come over?”
And I replied with a 2am sneer,
“Sure I’ll give you 20.00 to come and kill me.”
I was exhausted from a 3-day drinking binge,
After my faux proposal
The exhaustion incentivized sleep.
I found myself dreaming
Of a sober morning.
I didn’t hear the police,
It was a welfare check.
She was confined
An onslaught of
Crystal meth induced
Good Sarmatian behavior,
That raised concern
And alerted the authorities
Of my bizarre
I assured them
That I value life
Above a 20.00 ceiling-
The appraisals of everyday moments
Aren’t met with market equilibrium.
It’s something simple
That keeps us here. Something accessible
Beyond the confines of linear time
And a leap of faith. I said to the police,
“Hey guys…look I don’t even have 20.00
And if I did I would’ve spent it on pizza.”