Poem by Emily Grace

It’s 2019 
and I’m so rich 
I don’t hurt anymore 
I have an unlimited metrocard 
and the new romper from everlane 
and some really nice ravioli 
I ate the ravioli 
last night 
each bite costs $5
I sent a tweet about 
political correctness and 
tried not to act vain 
If anyone’s out there 
do I really have to keep doing this? 
I found myself 
in a different life 
a world where 
you never got up 
and went to work 
before me
where you retired 
before you got sick 
where you forgave 
your dad on time 
and could finally take 
us all on spring break  
Here, take one million dollars 
or fuck it
take it all 
my friend tweets back 
something about 
what to do when 
you’re six figures in debt 
and maybe now that 
I’m rich my credit line 
will increase and 
I’ll wake up feeling 
healthy with a clear spine
and drink 
an avocado smoothie 
from a metal straw 
like Kourtney Kardashian 
did that time in her makeup tutorial
People won’t say 
that I’m too sad or 
that I have too much vocal fry 
no one says that to a rich person  
and now I’ll 
finally answer 
when you call 
somewhere above this
serene and withholding
I’ll act like nothing happened
I promise
and let you hold me 
for the amount of time 
a rich person lets themselves 
be held
I imagine only 
a few minutes
and I will not vote for Bernie Sanders
and I won’t be socialist anymore, no point.

Leave a Reply