Betrayal

our pinball machines are dusted with snow
in an alley behind a bar in Oconomowoc
the neon Pabst sign flickers all night long
people we only knew in passing, pass

our loose change rattles around
in that emotional, psychic head space
there must be limits to how many quarters
we can drop, before we go broke

our filed claims lost in bureaucratic labyrinths
foolscap moldering away in metal cabinets
the registrar has no memory, cannot find
our statements, signatures, or photo IDs

our narratives refolded and creased until
the graphite smudges into gray nothingness
those bells, buzzers, and flashing lights
bluster, bluff, and finally betray us

[RK, 3/2/22]