I was trying
to find someone to take
me to the hospital
because my hands
were so full of stuff
I couldn’t drive myself.

My neighbor responded.
I was admitted.

My neighbor waited
and gave me big hug
when I was told
I could have the surgery.

We turned on
the room’s TV
and it said,
“Hi, your name is Broken,
and do I have a story for you.
After surgery,
you are going
to have no money.”

I was many flavors of nervous.
I was like, “My god,
I have got to get this done,
despite the TV’s warning.”
It was really tough.

In the end,
it was no problem
to do the surgery
and to be able
to take a picture
with my neighbor
afterward.
I got the medical help
I needed that allowed
me to grow
into a professional
that manages other
surgery-helped professionals.

I got my job,
but that TV’s words
hung over me
like a cloud of cat piss.
Soon enough,
the world started
to take my money
and I didn’t know
where to go for more.

I traveled from bank to bank, and asked “Where is my money?”
They said, your money is here,
you just can’t have it.
I traveled from crypto mine to crypto mine and asked, “Where is my money?”
They said, your money is here,
you just can’t see it.
I stopped traveling
and turned on the TV
and it said,
“Hi, your name is Broken,
and do I have a story for you.”

I stayed up too late
and called in sick
to work the next day.