Monopoly

They bought Boardwalk and Park Place

Hotels on each

No they didn’t buy it in competition they were theirs before the rest of us passed Go the first time and collected 200 dollars

They broke the bank and I have

What is it?

A House on Atlantic Avenue

They have 4 railroads too

A Monopoly

On a game of self love

An arm wrestling of who gets to hurt

Who has the pulpit

The banker is their own reflection

In their inflection they seem generous

I know they are but I am not a recipient

I spy the utilities left unmarked but in trying to pursue this any longer I will not own, but I will be

The Water Works

Oppression olympics

Their piece moneybags

And mine a shoe, tattered because it’s rusty

The catch is I could flip the board I could call the hypocrisy I could break out the manual

But I am an adult

So they will never know my story

It hurts that if they did I would feel okay and I know they would rejoice in the power of learning the notes behind my name

They will never see the bills I’m hiding in a towel draped under the table where the game is played

They have a monopoly and I sold my equal opportunity I sold a friendship I’m hiding my wealth and my stories and my earnings because I don’t believe I need to throw dollars on the board

I don’t want to buy Park Place and Boardwalk

I’m trying to walk

I’m trying to breathe

And I’m trying to give them the privacy that was denied me

I want

I want socialist monopoly

Let’s all just own our respective property

I’ll have houses on North Carolina and Tennessee and when it’s someone else’s turn I won’t pretend I own their colors too

They’re all different and it’s turns

It’s turns

We roll dice and we take turns

You listen to me

I listen to you

What a world that would be equal opportunity monopoly

Played in the course of the instructions

But everyone hates a person who reads them aloud

So I’ll burn my wealth I hid under the towels

I’ll say “you’re right I don’t understand, I have no pain, and you are the most important person on the board”

I’ll lie that the banker didn’t keep me up for 7 nights

And that their house isn’t a place where my heart gets tight

And I’ll pretend I’m fine being water works

And knowing they will never know and will hold a public speech based on the non information They accumulate by seeing me as a passing face

I’m a poor old shoe

But nobody will ever see

Because I am an adult

And I fucking hate monopolies

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