Copper in the Slots

That stain on the sidewalk there?

That used to be someone I knew

Twenty-three and dreaming

Twenty-three and glowing

He can’t hear us

Where’d the money come from?

Where’d the clothes come from?

You’re not welcome here ever again

Take your venom with you

No parade

No facade

No bouquets

No black cars

No redeeming values

No remorse

No song

Not the first, not the last

Just a ripple in the tide

Laying blame, attaching guilt

Won’t remove it from our minds

If pressed, I might say

That we all deserve to feel ashamed

Look at your hands, they’re the same as mine

So soiled you can’t see color