“You don’t know my face?
I have been coming here
For longer than you have been
Alive.”
She throws her money
In my face as though to say
You aren’t worth the years
I have spent building this
Sad little empire.
The leaves outside are
Tossed by the early autumn breeze.
Who knows which trees they come
From.
She has poured her water
Into leaky buckets.
“No ma’am,
Bricks do not remember faces.”