Poem of the Week

I’ve discovered a new favorite poet.

No Fixed Plans

Money

By Dana Gioia

Money, the long green,
cash, stash, rhino, jack
or just plain dough.

Chock it up, fork it over, 
shell it out. Watch it 
burn holes through pockets.

To be made of it! To have it 
to burn! Greenbacks, double eagles, 
megabucks and Ginnie Maes. 

It greases the palm, feathers a nest,
holds heads above water,
makes both ends meet.

Money breeds money.
Gathering interest, compounding daily.
Always in circulation.

Money. You don’t know where it’s been,
but you put it where your mouth is.
And it talks.

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