Can’t Make No Money From It

Can’t Make No Money From It

By Robert C Price


“If I can’t make no money from it

Then what’s the point,” he declared

on the corner trying to build himself

up as a man of means


Drives a fancy car

perpetrating respectability

only makes him a shark in

an aerodynamic aquarium


“I don’t work for free

I get while the gettin’s

good,” he said taking a

slow drag from his cigarette


And like most on the corner

hustling is their only option

compensating for imagined



Relinquishing the mind for

tattered presidents floating

down a man-made river to

a bottomless pit


Can’t make no money from

high and mighty dreams but

make money on misery and



That’s the excuse to justify

any and all monetary gains

on no-name spirits vanishing

at first light


Can’t make no money from


Adoration don’t pay the



Misuse of your body is

always in high demand

Politickin’ while you trickin’

is a sport for true professionals


While we feed the bear

we get speared by the bull

and my man on the corner

still taking that drag


Puffin’ smoke in the air

sending signals to nowhere

gettin’ paid from our despair

Who cares?