The Great Recession

by Arthur Mampel

How can we be this broke?
We both owe our children their
little change.
Each new sun we rise from our sleep
Full of dreams and shuffles,
Nodding at coffee and buttered toast.
We could return to our beds,
Without effort to sleep again.
We could forget that it is seven-thirty.

Why not forget the whole way
To our separate work?
Go north to Victoria,
Ride the ferry four hours,
Let the water surround us.

We could be kidnapped
By a late summer moon
All the way to Saginaw.
Our children would grow by themselves
And we could be innocent again,
Barely able to understand
A twenty dollar bill.

Arthur Mampel in Seattle and is Pietisten's poet laureate.

See all articles by Arthur Mampel