Net

The screen on the phone is cracked across the total.

I did the math three times on the back of a bill,

but the numbers don't move just because I’m tired.

There’s a blue line on the ledger like a vein

that stops right before it reaches the end.

I’m standing in the aisle with a carton of eggs,

watching the woman in front of me pay with a crisp

twenty-dollar bill that looks like a miracle.

I put the eggs back and walk to the door,

feeling the weight of the zeros in my pocket.