Piker Press — Weekly Journal of Arts and Literature
April 27, 2026

Burned hash on the counter

"...who will work in your restaurants..."

Burned hash on the counter

Spreading my wings
Jumping off desolation peak
Overlooking paradise lost
the property company
can keep their deposit
making that much harder to furnish bright shiny things for the privileged soon to sputter and drool in this now gentrified suburban hellhole…
tell me though
who will work in your restaurants
preparing your GMO, sugar and salt saturated flavorless meals?
Who will work your stores to be berated at for ringing up or not ringing up
bright shiny things
when they can barely afford the bus?
Let alone a car?
But the unions are on strike
Insurance whatever the fuck they actually do are on strike
So as everything goes up and you gnash your teeth wondering why the poor won’t participate and refuse to mingle
Scoffing at those losers who want to strike too
It’s all on you
Can’t put a gun to someone’s head already dead
INSERT BARREL INTO MOUTH







Article © Mike Zone. All rights reserved.
Published in the April 1, 2024 issue .
Image(s) are public domain.
More by Mike Zone → More poetry → Full issue →
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