I’m too poor, for five dollar words
I’ll use ones I can afford
Because money ain’t everything
Mama’s always said it to me.
I know how to count syllables
They even teach us hillbillies
You think the word “love” is so cheap
But your money can’t buy any.
Just read the New Yorker barefoot
Comfy in your coffin midtown
But tell me who checks in on you
When the sun decides to go down.
You’re always sure to find a rube
That buys into your gilded mess
Love casts fire in a gingham dress
Your five dollar words overspent.
Keep your purse open for those words
And keep the front section in awe
See your clown paint in your compact
And how you don’t feel life at all.
About the Creator
Jack Friend
Pizzaiolo, social worker, brewer, writer
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The Ritual of Winter Challenge Winners
Welcome to the Winners Announcement for The Ritual of Winter challenge. This prompt focused on winter rituals and the meaning that settles into them over time. The top pieces stay grounded in ordinary acts and repeated routines, letting winter shape the work through pace, attention, and restraint.
By Vocal Curation Team4 days ago in Resources
Comments (2)
So fascinating
Absolutely love this - "You think the word “love” is so cheap But your money can’t buy any."