Sunday, March 16, 2025

poem

 Handshake Deal

We’ve all been taken

The morning sunrise is a con 

Every face you meet is a facade.

Even the buildings are a scam.

Roads and highways, follow at your peril—

A series of switchbacks up giant pyramid schemes

The sidewalks are bingo games run by gangsters

With pockets full of weighted dice 

Every pedestrian is a potential mark

Even love is a sunk cost

You never get your money back

There’s only one way 

To make it all worthwhile—

A secret backroom handshake deal

With someone you can trust.

As long as you both agree to believe it’s worth something,

Then it’s worth something


3/16/25


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