I took this job down at the Corinth Mint after my marriage went on the skids, I was bored at home on the DPB* and I was sick of those two **** kids.
Jace shot through with this ***** called Glauce, her name brings to mind an eye disease, and her old man wants us out of Corinth even though I got down on my knees.
I feel like the serpent who was Golden Fleeced when Jason slipped the snake oil past it, but, since I've been working at the Mint, I can spot a twenty-four carat *******.
* For international readers, DPB is an acronym for Domestic Purposes Benefit, a welfare payment made to solo parents.
Copyright Andrew M. Bell. The poet wishes to acknowledge The Press in whose pages this poem appeared.