something about
anger two folded fists, knuckles ripe
like gripping a steering wheel and jerking it off road
into blooming fields rife with bone dust and lilacs
laughing i said to her, all it takes is money
all we need is money to make everything alright
and barely holding onto our children in the back seat
she asked, is that all?
and i veered back on road and nodded my head viciously,
damn straight, damn fucking straight