Agnosticism, represented by loud voices, crushed whatever chance of bloom we may have had.

At some point Joseph rose from sleep, his head throbbing with hangover. It was early, 4:36 am. He wanted to watch the sun rise but he could not remain awake for another hour. Besides, he reckoned the city’s grip held illumination tight. The sun, when up, hung over steel phalluses wrapped in chrome fashions – the sky mostly soupy. Five minutes of the outdoors necessitated another shower.

The most near star finally pushed itself into Joseph’s room; it was thick and shameless in the affection, waking him. In the room, sunlit sky blue and cracking, Joseph came to without the thick residue of sleep, awaking naturally, appreciating the large window’s generosity. He lit the pipe that lay beside him near his head just below the mattress resting on the floor. Sitting up against the wall, its plaster chipping, the charming effect of the tobacco’s inhalation worked instantly.

Today Joseph visits his neighbor, who lay sick on his couch. His face maimed in an accident, he drank grain alcohol until blacking out. For beer he would talk if you could find him. Nevus, his name, had the reputation of being nearly authentic, albeit broken. Joseph saw no reason to think otherwise.

The two became friends of circumstance, living near each other, sharing cynicism. Another acquaintance who never had money. Cash, at least the accumulation of it, was rare and fleeting. Enough for cigarettes, or enough for fast food, any amount, which could have been spent better, instead our drinking, alternate forms of participation. Rent.

Satiation draws you nearer to romance, which offers affectation. Having no money requires stamina – no romantic high ground, no insulation. Your work suffers and dies.

See the varying classes of our species and how they deflect their stations. The poor, dressing outlandishly, the marginally wealthy hungry for justice and change – they just aren’t rich enough. Economic classes superficially but at heart lie distinctions between varying qualities of exposure. Joseph swam the meridian, witnessing death, suicide, anguish, and beaten hearts lacking money exposed, more readily apparent, really, than past the thick walls of affluence. Money affords the privatization of suffering, the regard birthing stability of depression.

Bureaucracy humiliates the vulnerable. Without money your sores are exposed, picked at by the selfish myriads of do gooders hungry for authority, you become more communal, statistic-like. The dead eyes of those wanting to aid you waiting for reward and recognition. And as Nevus often says, “Who doesn’t have a fear of stats?”