Poetry

The Money Salad

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 ….

Published by r.Douglas

I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.