Like a finger grown fat
I hafta work into this day.
Six years yet given
& all working for another's generosity
has given me
is the need to give what's given
back away.
I fear being rude--
poor now as I am--
to those who do the work I do
who hafta wake early
& bake their faces
into cheap pastries
unhappy women
dry with money & marriage
will tip a dollar for,
but I can't afford a home,
A/C or many friends,
so I hafta pay my rent
at a back wobbly table
& not worry about how
much I just spent
for the time & noise needed
to attempt what I'm able.
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