Far-in Affairs

A poem in response to Ideastream №92

Sure, you have the money, sonny, but honey, does it really make sense to condense her worth into cents; her entire imbrication into a tool for your masturbation?

As if performing an ablation you request specific parts; her carnation—her arse And since her resources are scarce she is conflicted:

‘Cus, though she’s ‘gifted’ with a comely body she’s not your commodity Her humanness defying what you insist on buying

But, fuck it!

She can’t afford her altruisms in a nation caught in the schisms of capitalization So, here, have your x-rated cliché Pass the cigar, and the ashtray; today is her payday!

And as the night draws nigh to paint a blood-orange-sky she gets her share of the pie Wake up, tough-guy, can you see through the lie? We’re both corrupt, you and I…

A not-so-timely response to the poetry prompt from Ideastream №92