Inflation means the cost of shit goes up
(Not really “shit,” that’s just a metaphor)
The holy grail becomes a paper cup
And Walmart is a “posh” and “glitzy” store
If money doesn’t matter we’ll be fine
But if it does, I guess we’re really fucked
If money marks a thin, translucent line
We’ll look back on it and we’ll say “that sucked”
Inflation sucks the life from lifeless joy
The same way death betrays what came before
Should money really mean that much? Oh, boy!
Is prostitute a nicer word for whore?
Inflation seems to be the price we pay
For anything that gets in money’s way.
This entry was posted on Sunday, November 13th, 2022 at 11:05 pm and is filed under Sonnets. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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