debt

Every one of these seems to start out the same way

with a great idea, an oath to hope. 

A promise we make to ourselves

to do and to be better, bigger than we are

“I’m sure it will work this time...”

Until that surety has trailed off

And you’re left with quick fixes.

Minimum payments, selling off your things.

“I really did think it was a good idea…”

Still you point and click

and post your goods

on Amazon

“If someone will just buy it from me, I’ll make a payment…”

It’s troublesome when you realize you aren’t special.

That you can’t be anything big.

Disappointed when you have to accept mediocrity

Especially when all your life you thought (and were told) you were special.

But special don’t pay the bills.

American Express doesn’t care if you’re a deep person,

or can cook, or write, or love like no other.

Because none of that adds up to their minimum payment.

So point and click and list yourself, your things.

Make whatever little cash you can.

Pray it’s enough.

Pray you can make it enough.

Maybe you will find a crutch to make it a little easier:

A temporary lover, a drinking problem, a powder problem.

Every one of these crutches seems to start out the same way

An idea, a hope

A permissive lapse we allow ourselves in order to:

feel bigger than who we are

We are all so small.

We are tiny-

Just forgettable flecks,

in the fabric of a dollar bill