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somewhere to live, like anyone with an annual salary forty times monthly rent
who’d prefer fifty billion in savings, or
self-determination to a shit-eating grin
curse in ancestral line kept in check by side-hustle,
or a door that opens only to reveal SO many bank statements
the secret handshake of the freemasons, a
horrifying will and testament to a submission kink
STEM education AND/OR starter wife
what’s an approvable desperation
pile of gold AND one (1) weak point in armor?
kid OR one (1) cat but not both?
cat OR one (1) dog but not both?
remaining wish (a monkey’s paw)
to have somehow been somebody moneyed and not revealed
the true name method by which applicant can be vanquished
in exchange for this one tiny
vital thing, six walls pixel of land
a lot of fucking nerve






in the game of psychic supplicant
nobody ever wins

the little god laughs
to see such sport

asks the human what’llitbe
but knows: the usual

which unasked questions this time
and which blames

something about the icebox
whose turn to buy the plums again

the god-part sees the mirrors
how the human chooses this

to be small and seething
at the pouting boy-king

on high atop his 
private narrative

so resourced
and so butthurt