EMPTY POT ARITHMETIC
The aluminum lid he lifted.
Polished clean? Hunger struck back!
“Your days are numbered,” he vowed
To a woman who counted not coins, but breaths.
“Did I drink with your money?”
“No. You drank our supper.”
“You sit at home without a job.”
“You take loans. They disgrace me.”
Co-operative shame on her doorstep.
He called her liability.
She called for freedom from foolishness.
Both broke. Both bleeding pride.
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