Thursday, January 26, 2017

Kit Kelen #387 - money is sleeping

387
money is sleeping


under your breath
under the pillow
if it's not one thing
it's another

money will be Christmas yet

one shape
one more
all colours come
finely engraved – it's art
each note numbered
and such heartfelt views
heads you have to trust

interest only compounds
the miracle

just think of it
and you'll be poor

safe as houses
gold in bricks
bid up to a fever pitch
what are you worrying for?

money is sleeping
wild nights!
what dreams!

casino chips
fools' plastic
months before you start to pay

at ten per cent
you could live forever
all ghosts have come
to think this way

it's in a pocket
now it's not

the magic rabbit is sleeping
in the headlights dazed
there's not a burrow safe

it's at the bottom of the harbour
it's all in pyramids
on horses
clip coupons
cash a pension cheque
your lucky number must come up

add value
and fly frequently
lay-by
and on delivery
who's a girl's best friend?
what is there that cannot be hocked?

everyone freaks out if it burns
or rots or flushes away

you can't take it with you though
give it all to beggars
to the cat protection mob
it goes off like a two bob watch
how much is your bucket of prawns today?

money is everywhere floating
it's on the front page as well
and behind the sport
it's all between the lines
in every asset class

zero-sum?
we just count higher!

on screens
it's faster than the eye

it's like an illness
and we all cough -up
bloat and waste away

that coin the Seven Sleepers had
it won't buy bread today

you see that tattoo
on my forehead
net worth – that's a total
as of now
five digits, six?
the scone must be widened
as in the case of some dubious ancestor

you'd like to think relative
but money is absolute

nations are a market
and every realm is coin

who is there won't salute?
scrimp, save
then let's rein in
and tighten someone else's belt

tax is famously evaded
as in the roaring days
but when you're down and out

money – you've got lots of friends

everything depends on
must not wake 

money is sleeping
ready to strike

it's the silence
that measures us all

1 comment:

  1. ahh the sleeping money, the crux of it all at present. I like this poem.

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