a can of soup
I have been guaranteed
a few more lingering hours
perhaps days
because everything is worthless
and by knowing this
I can stay peacefully alone in
the alcove of anonymity
were a roll of bills
I accidentally found
on my way to sleep
unmarked and eager
to be poured into
the greedy hands of the city
while meticulously counting
the days to my impending
poverty
now I have a can
of soup
and all the time in the world
to be
sound asleep.
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