rent is due

it’s the first of the month. it’s day when we’ve gotta fucking pay to have a roof and rooms. it’s also the day i get paid… so here’s a poem in dedication of being anti-money:

Mistakes are made,

of which i blame

those dead presidents

found on those floating pieces

of dead paper.

Money is a drug.

Money is a poison.

Money is an addiction.

Dead presidents to trap you

find you, to blame you for your mistakes.

And then don’t listen to your screams.

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