can’t knock knock the hustle

Dear Jesus, thanks for the memories

can’t knock knock the hustle
Photo by Gary Meulemans / Unsplash

by Stephanie Young

there’s a place for fun in your life
it’s the Mall of America
you can ralph on a rollercoaster
and commit to the bit with a Gucci gift
that could be us but you play too much online poker
and anyways I’m doing 5 to life in horny jail
thank god my thoughts are still private
if a serial killer asked me if I wanted to play a game
I might be like kinda?
that’s why I don’t go to Milwaukee anymore
every night I pray
Dear Jesus, thanks for the memories
he gives me a thumbs up but doesn’t text back
god never gives us anything 
more trivial than we can tolerate
I’m the last one laughing at the jokes I’m cracking
the rest of the girlies lol-ed too hard and a baby popped out
meanwhile I’m still out here 
banging heaters and roasting fools
sitting on amps 
and enduring
nowadays, me and the devil
work it out in therapy

Stephanie is a psychologist, academic, and writer. Her creative work has appeared in Spare Parts LitBreakfast...?Plainsongs Poetry Journal, and other fine literary outlets.