No Dollars, No Sense

I could transmutate frustration
Into poetry, but I failed Alchemy 101.
Instead, I’m enclosed in a circle;
I have money, which I cannot access
Without a valid ID, yet I need money
To renew my expired ID. This game
Is written in law; people reduced
To numbers, whether the dollar
Sign comes before or after the digits.

I sit at the library, unable to focus
With my stomach being sloth-like.
Today was a failed experiment in movement,
An unsuccessful trial in transportation.
The energy used on futile endeavors
Could have been put to use writing a better poem.

Copyright 2012
A. J. Hayes
Give a poet a pen