by Maggie the Bartender
Pay me what you owe me
cuz you owe me a lot,
you owe me for that trip to Cancun
and that plastic surgery
and that other plastic surgery
and that car
and that other car
you owe me for all that.
And yeah, I am calling in that loan
that loan that I gave you
and like I’m calling it in now
because I can
and because you owe me.
And yeah you owe me for a lot more than plastic surgery and cars,
how about that time I watched your dog
and that time I bailed you out of jail
or, forget that, how about that time I took you from jail to the psych ward?
that time in Tulum.
That time when the police were afraid of you
so I had to take you from jail to psych ward.
But you owe me for more than that.
Plastic surgery and cars and trips to jails and psych wards don’t scratch the surface.
You owe me for that time you sneezed and the sun blew out.
You owe me for that time you laughed in my face and I died for a week.
Those were hard times for me…Dead for a week…
You can’t imagine.
Do you know what else you can’t imagine?
You can’t imagine how much you owe me.
You owe me money
all the money
all the monies
all of it.
You ate my food and my soul and you drank my energy.
My fucking energy.
Energy vampire,
My soul was not enough?
So sign this document right now
and cosign it too, because you can
and because you are going to pay
you are going to pay for stealing my rhymes and my meter and my voice and even my pauses.
You left me with no pauses in which to breathe.
So sign
or cosign, I don’t care.
Signs or cosigns or tangents or right angles, I do not care
I do not trouble myself with the geometries of your soul.
Your soul is what it is,
I don’t care.
Is the geometry of your soul even Euclidean?
Probably not,
But I don’t care.
Just sign.
And then pay.
