A shot of tequila
Rinsed with bourbon
Settles my stomach
Crackling of my neck
With a swift movement
Is my trademark
Humming of the streets
Settles the nerves
Of my job
The useless mindset
Takes over my being
Steadying my hand
Perfect vision progresses
Guaranteeing success
Of my paid job
The ten o’clock news
Headlines blare
Echoing my existence
I open my bank account
Revealing the final payment
Accepted in full
When I once felt safe
The nightmare is now real
Retirement to hell
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem