never wrote in New York but went to
Chicago today bought some poems
off a man for a dollar
which decreased my currency
to where I now have
27 dollars in all to my name.
just found him on facebook though
was I hustled? I don’t know
the end rhymes banged me over the head
for a while. it was still good shit,
true shit, give-a-dollar shit,
cause the wind wasn’t getting any better
even if it was just
40 degrees in January in Chicago.
maybe more than food
people need support.
but nah.
that dollar prolly got him some candy
or a burger at Mcdonalds.
you try to do some good every now
and then.
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