Capitalist Douchebag    (or, contingency)

bills aren’t made     to absorb
                                                   and mine are folds     anyway

what base is it          when i put you          on my CV         for making me
respectable and fresh          when you look        at my legs at my monthly
statements       you want to be thinking        of daisies          and clean air

i’ve already told HR          that using dollars        to douche leads to cuts
all along the smooth muscle            they have assured me
if i can document          any fever or infection          they’ll speak with you
about worker’s comp
                                         i keep pushing         out my babies
their tiny fingers and toes catch
                                                  these employment knicks along my walls
                      my babies come out              in one big push       i tear
       i name them after            a recalled book                you’ve trained me to love

                   within five minutes        they are reciting          my entire work history
                                                 in a stream of meconium               i don’t get
                      a maternity leave       from your fist of bills
                                     scrubbing the path behind them        the moment
                                                                                                   the babies are out

i drink eaves water
to help my milk come in
                 i get to keep          my children my name my library access
i don’t get to        keep the money
you clean me out with