We don’t know how wrong life can be
Till summoned to the DMV
To be served incompetently —
Workers who cannot agree
From one damn counter to the next
On any tiniest pretext
I get increasingly perplexed
Oh, someone rescue me
From chairs of plastic in a grade
As hard as any ever made
In which I have for hours stayed
Uncomfortably flexed
With people to the right and left
Similarly of hope bereft
That we’ll still have a penny left
After we have paid
The taxes, fees and penalties
Assessments for amenities
To gods of government appease
(It all amounts to theft)
But if I do a powder take
Know it would be a big mistake
I’d better the decision make
To stay and do it right!
*****
Among us, poets are not paid. The poet/editor of this website, being physically disabled, lives at a fraction of her nation’s poverty level. Become a patron of the fine arts at: https://www.gofundme.com/are-you-a-patron-of-the-arts
