I saw a man on the street with his hand out
so I reached into my pocket for a dollar to give
and pulled out a five.
I quickly looked for a single to replace it
and saw another five,
another five
and a twenty.

I knew he saw all these bills
and knew how it would look
if I spent any more time looking
for a smaller denomination
so I muttered, “Fine!”
and handed him the five.
“Thank you!” he said.
“Good luck,” I replied, and went on my way.

As I was about to stuff the bills back in my pocket,
I found the dollars.
“Perfect,” I said to the cruel gods of injustice,
who clearly hate me and the world around me,
“Just perfect.”