“Could be raining,” Don’t Pity the Poor

Do us both a favor, think twice before tossing your two cents into this, our tin can predicament. It is not enough to scrape by, to scrub floors, or shovel shit; we have to genuflect for your wise advice about spending or questions about how we got here in the first place, as if any answer— for whatever scrap you toss more out of shame, misplaced guilt, like a toll for the gruff billy goat to let you pass in the peace of knowing you did something for your fellow man—would suffice. This might prick your gentle giving soul, how someone like me could be so pompous or proud. What could someone like me be proud of anyway, out here reminding folks it could always be worse?