On Being Broke
on sleeping on the 1 train
because it’s the dead of winter
and you don’t yet have an apartment
but still can’t afford a hotel
on stocking up on cheap coffee
because when there’s no money to eat
the caffeine staves off the hunger
even just a little bit
on having that coffee for breakfast
only to have water for lunch
sleep for dinner
and anguish for a midnight snack
on searching pocket after pocket
turning knock-off purse inside out
and counting coins in hopes
for a single protein bar
on food stamps
on not being able to see doctors
on privileged women joking about how broke sounds like diet
how hunger and without sound like fad, and weight loss plan
on student loans hitting direct deposit
and crying because that number means groceries and bills
and maybe even a little something nice for yourself
at the reliable expense of days long haunting guilt
on going days without medication
on “finish school” and also “get a job”
on there actually only being twenty-four hours in a day
and all twenty-four of them are tried
on fuck you, actually
and all the systems which allow millions to live like this
while the privileged laugh and judge and gatekeep and shame
as if the distance between us and them isn’t a single unforeseen expense
as if the distance between us and them
isn’t mere circumstance, or a zip code, or a fed-up fist
too tired, too hungry, and too crushingly broke
to give a damn about “chill, it was only a joke”
