Mucho Trabajo, Poco Dinero

by Paul Mathers

To gaze upon the stars and feel our insignificance

is the greatest source of mental health.

Tomorrow we will return to rent-paying,

the value of completed tasks spiraling upward from us.

Tonight, drunk as lords,

we will forget the indifference.

We will take the business of our meaning

elsewhere whenever we can:

To God, to Art, to our most charitable of classes:

The working poor.

Throwing feathers against stone

in hopes of carving our name there.

Because Heaven forbid our jobs be our only contribution.

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