Out of My Control
Here we go.
Who took the rose petals
from my thorn flower?
What is this?
I took a low blow straight
from the depths of hell.
I’m alive,
but I’m fresh out of dough.
It’s out of my control.
My money’s
spent as soon as I’m paid
for shit bought years ago.
Do the math.
Life is so unkind when
poverty hounds us all.
Go to bed
and raise the white flag high
in the air and retreat.
Hit the streets.
Put up a mansion tent
where there is no rent.
Pay no tax
like that crooked old Prez
and save your money
for rainy days.
Tell the creditors it
is out of my control.
My money’s
run out to pay for shit
bought many years ago.
Luis lives in California and continues to work in the mental health field in Los Angeles. His poems have appeared in Ariel Chart, Blue Collar Review, Escape Into Life, Fixator Press, and Kendra Steiner Editions.
Fixator Press 