Damion Hamilton's poetry blog. My ebooks are available through this link: http://www.amazon.com/Damion-Hamilton/e/B00YFZ44P8
Saturday, September 10, 2016
Without Money
They say money isn't happiness,
and maybe they are right, most of the time,
well I was getting harassed by the cops this night.
for a situation that did not even involve me.
they saw a small open container and went at me
You would have thought I was fucking El Chapo,
several cops blinding me, yet i am strangely calm for a coward.
they give me their fucking field tests, and I pass those motherfuckers. I'm not drunk after a shot of wine, can you be serious?
the head cop won't let me drive my car for the night.
I try Uber that don't work, but the taxi came, and I'm off to a local motel, wasting 50 dollars and the cab fare.
I left my driver's license in my car, which i can not drive to morning. Fucked up.
cab dude comes i get my license, and they let me rent the room.
fucked up about my situation, but not that bad off
because while I was waiting for the cab i was sitting outside and see this Mexican guy sitting on the side of the building.
He couldn't even afford a 50 dollar room, sleeping outside.
and think why do such things as homelessness have to happen? when there are plenty of rooms, yet not enough money for a lot I guess.
well anyway, I have a hard time going to sleep. That night.
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