Dollars and sense.

I spent my last $5 on a basement show,
to establish normalcy,
to prove that I am OK,
and tap my foot a little bit.
To make it home,
I had to pay for gas
with nickels and dimes,
and still wind up with .7 gallons.
The attendant gave me discerning look,
if only she knew
what these past three days have been.

I feel like I've been hit by a train.