Costs
Bitter hoppy drink
Foam slides over the edge
Brought by an overworked mom
Caring for me more than her own
I drink but I don’t think
Of the cost to myself, to her, to children
What of my liver? What of my work?
Can I get you another?
Full bodied and malty.
She scrubs tables and takes orders,
her children lie in bed hungry
craving something hot and salty.
Bubbly in the head I drive
home to bed.
Instead another bartender
leaving for home ends up dead.
