My head’s drenched,
I lack an umbrella.
My clothes are soaked,
I lack a jacket.
My chin’s to the puddles,
So my brow drags the oil
And I’d crack if I had to smile,
If I had to say, “thank you,”
Just one more time
Under rain, under shame, and the
Laughing gods above.

With a sliver of scorn,
I do muster one more
“Thank you,”
As I’ve got my pay;
Cashed my last inch of dignity
And quickly lost
When I do the math and see
That I’d spent more on gas
As opposed to what I line my
Pockets with –
Lint and little more.

With a dwindling fuel,
Both in belly and beast,
I leave for the ends of existence
Knowing full well,
I’d return, I’d come home,
And when I can’t have food
I steal this simple moment,
A special kind of sustenance wherein –
I don’t want to see my wife,
My brother, or my mother.
I don’t want to see anyone or anymore.