Mama’s Words on Being Cheap

“Things of the world,”
my Mama says.

I remember her singing
rock songs of the poor
thumping her hand
on the roof of my grandma’s
mini-van,
and sipping a refil
of Pepsi.

“If I can’t afford a pop,
only then will I be
destitute,”
my Mama says.

I remember her bringing
a bag of discount Tacos
as though they were
a real treat.
At least it wasn’t
Ramen noodles
or tunafish,
sandwiched or otherwise.

“Get over it,
because you’ll never have
enough money,”
my Mama says.

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