With Hands Unyeilding

My hands are not unskilled.

Laborous, light, and fingers uncurled.

I can bring in the work of a needle, a cut of thread too, but not with ten dollars. No, that won't do.

I could portion out my hands, free of charge. But the glue is the demand.

More than I can fork over, but less than I can obtain. I'm sure I can bargain our way from the ten to more per say.

Stop a person in public. Post online. My phone is already paid. I have shed most dimes. I can ask for an exchange, purge a garage of a little unused shame.

Nickle and toil. Gather and clutch, fill holes with steel stick, and a bit of saw dust.

They'll last him a minute. A heavier shoe.

I won't have my son walk on bare 'human' Earth, I can go hungry for a few.