On Being Defrauded... Poem by RIC BASTASA

a poor worker
has overpriced me for his services
demolishing a house
that was burned
the fire that ate a son
and a house-help
the news that froze
almost to death
the whole city

many nights i could not sleep
i dream of robbers and
crocodiles

but then, (on the other hand)
it could simply be
history repeating itself
or just the usual
things that happen because
they are destined to be

got a mirror
see my face and
nod.

i can do the same thing to another next time.
no holds bar.