money

I.
new york. mouth ajar
hold a man’s savings in coins down its throat.
new york, a gullet of bile, trapped voice garbling beautiful
words, so big it will certainly swallow you
whole.
new york. eyes wide, eyes focused, eyes
always narrow.
we keep our chins raised and heads lowered
our palms up, palms open.
trollies full, bags loaded, down
cast eyes and shoulders tense.
backs hunched and thumbs bent.
swiping for trains and un-easy sex.
swiping for pockets and easy meds.
swiping for sweet ice-cream and men.
swiping for play and pause and stop, this is not
what you wanted.
transaction of dreams now complete.
open call for hopes and prayers.

II.
new york.
hi there, how can i help you today?
here, let me show you -

the appropriate size for your skyscraping dream,
the appropriate volume of choice in this grocery,
the appropriate space that you constantly need
in your wallet
or head.

III.
so high
is this building
so high
is the price
so high
is the list
so high
is the flight

swallowing up the runway while choking on its steam,
self in the cargo hold, always overweight.
will you cruise, crash or just descend?
gentle as a dollar bill or a grain of snow?
lay to rest solid cold?
crumple fast, robbed of home?
undone, sunken to the floor?
framed in white chalk, fall in a hole?

IV.
new york. begging to be fished
from the dustbin
to shake off its poor
smells, be polished shiny apple new again.
i’m here now.
deposit my fantasies, and grow me with interest
new york. a weed out of the crack, a rose
stemming up, up, up
from concrete and corruption,
nation-size dream reduced
to coins stuffed in a beaten hand.

Photograph sourced from here