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    The Almighty Dirty Dollar

      Wake up Slave.

      Do not be late or the master will beat you with the whip of unemployment

      Dress in a sophisticated suit

      Impress the overcompensated boss

      Despite your feelings of undeniable disdain

      Businessmen drink another cup a Joe,

      Maybe overtime will be tolerable

      Grocery store cashier

      Wear a pretty smile and a dirty apron

      Regardless how the greedy consumer acts

      Backbone is grounds for termination

      Stripper

      Remove your revealing attire for the drunk and horny

      He waves a buck, scoff and moves towards the champagne room where it rains twenties Or hails quarters

      Millionaire

      Count the millions of sins committed for greenbacks

      Digest the delicious disease of greed

      Remember a Mercedes makes you better than the poor

      We’re all working hard for the one controlling necessity

      The Almighty Dirty Dollar

      Glass Houses

      They say that I try too hard

      That I make a big deal,

      That all I do is worry,

      Perhaps-

      But I see society as an unstable structure

      That we need to build upon every day

      Or it will crumble before our eyes.

      When you don’t say please

      Thank you

      Or sorry

      I want to punch you in the face

      I want to take back my nice gesture

      And spit on your discourteous desolate heart

      But

      I would not want to compromise my values

      For something so petty

      And small

      As you

      I tip well

      Not because I am rich,

      Or have something to prove,

      But because it is the right thing to do

      I open doors for others, and say thank you when they are opened for me

      I always say excuse me

      I remain polite,

      Retain my manners

      And

      Revel in the fact that I am better than the trash that does the opposite

      Queen of the Clouds

      She walks on clouds of vagrant velvet

      Lined with exotic silver streaks

      Looking down on a pitiful planet

      And sees me,

      The delusional cast away with little to offer

      Just pretty words and simple trinkets of proposed admiration

      The soft texture of her skin hides her insides

      A cold heart that yearns to be warm again

      A soul unfulfilled

      Lungs that gasp for knowledge, prosperity

      The desire to change an uncompromising and ugly situation

      We are all dead today

      Lifeless zombies starved of creativity

      Somehow set into stone

      I know I can break this rock

      But not alone

      I need her poetic compassion to guide me

      Through the silver lined clouds of her existence.

      Forlorn

      Pieces of my life

      Slowly slip through bandaged appendages

      They say;

      When it rains it pours

      Well,

      Noah must be building another arc these days

      I pace through this desolate apartment building

      Waiting for a response

      From my last text message to you;

      It never comes

      It’s not lonely-

      When her cats need their supper

      And I can’t find the meow mix

      Only because

      She always was in charge of that

      It’s not lonely-

      When the wine pushes painkillers past my tonsils

      And

      I climb the staircase with a dislocated patella

      Sliding in and out of place

      It’s not lonely-

      When I open up our closet door

      To get an extra blanket to sleep with

      And hear the sound of unused plastic hangers

      Smacking against each other,

      Her dresses and pretty blouses use to dull the noise

      No it’s not lonely-

      Until I crawl drunk into bed

      The scent of Pantene on the pillows

      Lingering

      Like our first kiss at the crooked picnic table

      Like making love after running through sprinklers

      Like the three years it took you to say goodbye

      I stretch my arm outwards with my eyes closed

      Hoping to touch your soft flat stomach

      Or

      Feel the warmth of your breath against my neck…..

      It’s going to be a very cold night

      Push

      It’s been days since I’ve slept

      The sun seems brighter

      My eyes lost all focus

      The muscles behind the iris is growing weak

      All of the conversations seem rehearsed

      In this state, I’m susceptible to anything

      I wander the halls

      Searching for a cup of coffee

      A dose of sugar

      An energy drink

      I quit smoking months ago

      Just to start up again here and now

      The butterflies

      That circle inside my empty stomach lining

      Have butterflies, which have little baby butterflies…I’m nervous

      But confident

      Back through a set of double doors

      To a set of double doors

      To an elevator

      That leads to a set of double doors

      The room I finally arrive in is full

      Of people

      Of screams

      Of an odor so pungent my nose bleeds

      I look down at this shell of a woman

      Both of us dizzy and exhausted

      Then I join in with the screaming and yelling

      The grunts… the moans….

      I tell her this is how it is

      To hold on

      Breath

      Everything will be okay if you stay calm

      Hair

      Eyes

      Nose

      Mouth

      Neck

      Body

      I grab the ball of blood acceptingly

      Our eyes match, both crystal blue and full of tears

      A first glance of a new life.

      A new love.

      Kira.

      Metal Monsters

      Steel demons strike under a starless sky

      Cops only leave the doughnut shop

      When riots break out

      The baton battalion of Chittenden Avenue

      Break up yet another harmless keg party

      Power is corruption

      The devil with a blue dress carries a badge

      He preaches to all the children in regards to the new way

      Everyone ignores police brutality

      Except those it inflicts

      Tear gas kisses and rubber bullet sex sessions caress the youth

      We’re all getting fucked by the system

      Dance in your goodie two shoes little one

      Soon the song shall be over

      What will happen then?

      Will they applaud you for being boring?

      Or shoo you off stage awaiting the next carbon copy to perform

      Goodbye

      “Miles away”

      She Says

      “Miles away from here”

      There is nothing left except withered flowers

      Degraded love

      Broken glass tears

      -Where ya gonna go-

      “New York, New York

      Where buildings fall

      Broken hearts scream for crazy glue

      And every girl is an actress

      Away from Ohio Valleys


      Columbus Concrete

      And boys like you”

      “You have no soul Mr. Thompson”

      -I love you-

      “You lust with every inch, and bruise with every insulting word”

      -Goodbye-

      Off she goes…to a train…to become a memory,

      to become nothing but a blueprint of how I’ll try again

      About the Author

      Kurt Thompson is a twenty five year old writer who lives in Columbus Ohio.

      Follow on Twitter @kurtsoapbox

      Like our page on facebook for free coupons

      Visit our website https://soapboxpublishing.webs.com/

      Check out other Soapbox Books

     


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