Those who have reached the dream cry hope, while those who grow old in the gray light of poverty shake their heads. So shake me loose. Where is the middle ground? Or is this overcast life it? They say dreams are fickle, corrupting, even. As much to peel you back for spoils as to give … Continue reading The Worth of Dreams
Electricity changes from month to month, But, on average: 100...Maybe. Garbage: 20 Phone: 48 Car Insurance…we’ve been in too many wrecks. Medication: 50 something That changes all the time But I’m mostly ashamed that I even have it. Gas: 200 More insurance: 93 Because it’s illegal to not have enough. Groceries: I don’t want to … Continue reading Budget
A ghost walked through my door, tagged along by a tiny, three-year old responsibility, and asked me nothing, but heavily implied and sagged until I offered a bed. A ghost walked through my door, heavy, weary, with echoes of drugs in my head, medical or otherwise, waiting till I offered food to announce that she … Continue reading Bringing in a Homeless
Tell me why I'm still standing here, head tilted back, mouth open wide, for rain to drown me on open land. I'm clinging for strads of atmosphere, but all it is is air. Tell me whether to stay or go when what I long to do is fly. But even if I were to reach … Continue reading Earthbound
I know there is the sublime to reach for. Kneeling with fire in her hands and golden beauty as her cloak. But I'm here. Single-wide bad paint job debt and treeless sand. I know, somewhere, exists a dream maker. Framed with lightning, outstretched wings, and a rain of crystal or diamonds. But I'm here. Sick … Continue reading Not Living the Sublime
Just writing up my list and crunching the numbers that mama says won't change for the next twenty years, so get comfortable. She might as well have said: "You'll always be poor, sweetheart, and we all know there ain't no charm in it." Bread winner training for a job his own sick brain won't let … Continue reading Crunching Pride
Covet all within a store known for fragile Chinese wares. Where is your pride now?
"Things of the world," my Mama says. I remember her singing rock songs of the poor thumping her hand on the roof of my grandma's mini-van, and sipping a refil of Pepsi. "If I can't afford a pop, only then will I be destitute," my Mama says. I remember her bringing a bag of discount … Continue reading Mama’s Words on Being Cheap
Author T.S. Lowe 