Hardened Arteries

When the office screwed a few bucks
out of you for the stenographer
who couldn’t hack it after her surgery,
you bellyached to yourself all the way home.
You’d made it the hard way, you said.
Done without, cut corners, lived like a dog.
Even dumped Grandpa in the county home
after his dough ran out. Nobody ever gave you
anything. Let other people chew their
troubles, you had to swallow yours.
Over your steak and beer, you keep trying
to tune out that beggar’s bell
calling up the ghosts of compassion.