Free Nachos
by james bezerra
My closest bar is a Mexican restaurant
not too far out of the way
on my walk home.
For happy hour they have free nachos
made without love,
under a heat lamp.
I never eat them.
Or the dry burritos
or the rice like desiccated ants.
The universe is a cosmic karma engine and so
I never eat the free food. I’m banking my right to it
for leaner times.
It is far too easy to imagine a future me
paying for drinks with change counted from a cupped hand.
He will need free nachos more than me..
.
.
