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.