The Only Good Capitalist is a Dead One

Well-trained kid, I guess, the embodiment of unseemly
American greed. I ask him to change the all-season
Tires of my wife's car for those better for summer. He
Frowns. He says that there's too little tread. The tires
Are hard. They must be too old. I ought to spend close
To a thousand to have him sell me some new ones.
I call him a shit, and put my old tires back into my truck.
He could have made money by doing as I asked, but he
Made none, the capitalist clown. 





Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 84 times
Written on 2024-06-10 at 01:21

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Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
I hope you found another guy who would do as you asked. So typical these days. Blessings, Allen
2024-06-10


alarian The PoetBay support member heart!
I like when you depict (very well) the ups and downs of every day's life
it deserved a story
God is like an expensive car, HE is fed by the gas station attendant and driven by the capitalist
2024-06-10