Poet's Corner: "Max Out"

Most people are left broken
and useless when pushed
passed their max.

No longer able to perform
the purpose of their existence,
they drift as a ghost outside

the proverbial shell,
a hermit crab with a foreclosed home.
Oh but it was all worth it, for those

few hours of ecstasy, and that
month-long orgasm.
But poverty lasts longer than

the joy provided by these
luxurious items. Sometimes
arms just need to rest

from carrying shopping bags
and playing sale tag --
chasing after the best deals

all in the name of "it" --
and, please, rest the card-swiping wrist
before it gets carpal tunnel syndrome.

If people are this easily broken,
think how much more fragile
are our finances

and economies, being
non-corporal and
without substance.

By A. Jarrell Hayes

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