Life is payday.

You have fifty dollars in your pocket

along with the daydreams of what you might buy

roses for your future lover

the promise of opportunity.

Life is tax day.

You somehow owe it fifty dollars

along with your daydreams and promises

your roses and your lover

the reality of hard work gone to waste.

Life is economy.

Where the market flashes hot, fish will bite

but you can supply all the try and wish and give

demand demand, but Life will seek what it wants

when the market dries cold, you’ll be down and out

you can’t beg a dime.

Life is a rigged capitalist dictatorship.

You have no control over luck or fair

but it will assure you that you do

propaganda posters with your estranged Uncle Sam’s prodding finger

promoting you too can have a slice of his pie

if only you try, wish, give, demand

but Life will do as it pleases.

Life is your last dollar bill.

It rests alone in your fraying wallet

you take it out with calloused fingers, dirty nails

crumpled symbol of dreams and dreams defeated.

You hate it, you cherish it, either way

you know you have to spend it.