Costs


Costs


Bitter hoppy drink

Foam slides over the edge

Brought by an overworked mom

Caring for me more than her own


I drink but I don’t think

Of the cost to myself, to her, to children

What of my liver? What of my work?

Can I get you another?


Full bodied and malty.

She scrubs tables and takes orders,

her children lie in bed hungry

craving something hot and salty.


Bubbly in the head I drive

home to bed.

Instead another bartender

leaving for home ends up dead.


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