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 ….