Apocalyptic poems, posted every m-f.

when the chips are down

eventually we learn,
and you can see it in our speech –

we call them devil deals,
when they come without strings
silky smooth & polished in kindness,
candied apples with the all-too-familiar rotten cores

these deals, we made a lot of them
as shit started to get bad
we wised up
realized how fucked up a free lunch
would leave our stomachs

and the other ones,
we call em angel offers:
the ones that nearly leave you crying, they’re so cruel
the ones that drop the gate all spike and spite

you see, when the chips are down,
honesty is worth any price
because there are no safe bets
when the chips are down

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