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On her desk
by her Mac
a money salad
accidentally abstract Origami fives
back cover Mad Magazine folded tens
a pile of sad and asunder singles
and with a Jackson or three– sprinkled on,
about , and often in her currency casserole

What’s a poor boy to do?

I leaf through
pick and prune
fold and flatten
massage and manipulate
currency crease and bill build

I swap out the severely deformed with fresh
from my stash….

Then I round up, layout, and pat down.

So I can gift her– with a grifter’s fold

NaPoWriMo Poem 2 ….

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