Broke is Deadly

A liquid music froths up from my bubble bath

and I tell Industry to get out

and Perseverance to get in next.

These old gods are filthy.

 

I broke all the strings on my father’s guitar

and now I sell them separately.

Broken is beautiful.

Broke is deadly.

 

On the river my father sleeps in his kayak,

dreams of work.

Always he works.