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| Midnight At The ATM Machine |
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by Doug Tanoury
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It greets me by name
And asks quite to the point
Deposit or withdrawal
As I begin my starlight banking
To secure some cash
A collection of crisp twenties
That smell of ink
On new paper and
Dead presidents
Stare at me sternly in moonlight
Their images engraved
With serious rococo themes
New currency
Being bent or crinkled
Sounds like insects
In the night
And bills folded tight
Like mantis wings
Or the torso of a katydid
Bearing marks of the late baroque |
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http://www.funkydogpublishing.com/
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