I don’t listen much to the world
It doesn’t have much to say
It only tells me I owe it money
One of these days I’ll crack it in the mouth
Carve its face up with a pen and give it a new one
And when people ask what happened
The world can tell them
“I asked Eddie for money one too many times”
And the world’s broken face will remind everyone
Never to ask a dime of me, again
Read more poems by Eddie.
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So, what-the-hell can someone do with a dime these days?
I forgot the question mark.