Two words—clean cut,
Sharp like truth,
Simple as spit,
Understood in every pit
And palace.
Money talks.

******* hell
So do my prayers.
Two words,
No frills,
Just fire and air,
Shot through ceilings,
Blown through cracks,
No echo back.

Money talks,
But prayers?
They whisper to walls.
They dance in smoke.
They choke.

Yahoo to my prayers
Sent to the stars,
To the sky that shrugs,
To heaven
Where silence
Claps in all languages.