CXXIII: I read about this in a nice book once

In just the next world over, there's a me

who, after every shift, crosses the lot

and eats a doughnut at a shop, with tea,

or with a chocolate milk when it's too hot.

That would be normal in the world next door,

the same for any book you've ever read.

But not for me, and not for many more

who live right here, where money's all but dead.

How is it that a doughnut costs as much

as miles long of travel in a car?

And one makes sense to purchase in a clutch,

but not the one that makes your heart run far.

In just the next world over, life makes sense;

but not right here, where joy is an offense.