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.
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