Tuesday Night Nachos

We both hate

billionaires. Say if we had

their kind of money we’d be

feeding every starveling

in the world. Christen clinics

in West Darfur; rebuild

the homes of Gaza in a jiffy.

We see a homeless

& hungry sign

on the way to the pub,

eschew the discomforting

meeting of eyes

with every step,

feigning we spot a swallow

flit roof-to-roof,

know we’ve planned

this affable evening

for a week, have just enough change

for beer, hope to harp & grumble

about the likes of Galen

Weston / Elon Musk,

the Bezos / Rockefellers,

howling as our Coronas

hit the spot, paying with our

Visas when our wallets have

been bled as by a leech; not wishing

to prune this moment

with the shears of reality,

mislay that gleeful feeling

we’re better than they.

Andreas Gripp

November 4, 2025

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