money put aside for money will money into money

its the same with semen, but stickier

than honey

so all things that can be saved can also be expended, and drowned in

abandoned wardrobes of borrowed clothes

were as solid as super funds, with interest compounding

sameness runs every morning, like clockwork

sameness, every day and every morning. I fall through insolence to meet you.

And find glory meeting me

my self-interest accumulating bull’s eyes in the wall

of frantic necessity

a necessity grown too large for

denial. Like competition dancers grinning grimly, we swing time

Money. money. money feng shui

will do me undo me

slivered thirty silver pieces of me

semen pasted the strips into a sticky collage, grey art a dollar a pop

the whole of my messy life on display —

scrounging for a decent drink and fuck-up where’s my keycard

possibly in the ghostly hands of the shadow treasurer Snow Jockey

whose sordid tongue puts about ugly produce of

unfiltered avarice

well, you said money, honey…

Only the bellboy is listening

with his pale pink, shivery ear