I only asked because I had to ask

I only asked because I had to ask,

expecting he would shake his head and sigh.

I’d rehearsed the failure like a task,

a way to look a neighbor in the eye.

But then he reached inside a kitchen drawer

and handed me the envelope of bills.

I stood there frozen by the open door,

feeling the sudden weight of all my ills.

The edge of a twenty cut into my thumb,

a crisp and green reality of debt.

I wanted to be angry or be numb,

but now I’m just a man who’s soaking wet.