Money cannot find me.
I try to be reasonable but money is horridly banal.
Money, blow and blow is what I think about you.
Street urchins make more than me.
Water tastes funny without cups.
How far will I go?
Jingle jingle jingle.
Despite holes that compromise living rooms, friends visit.
Money money and more holes to look into.
You are dangerously close to falling.
The money said nothing.
The neighbors called up to us, "Your whole system sounds cockeyed!"
They suck the life from each other and we pay the bill.
Money always whispers,
"You pathetic humans don't know my true name."
I know my own name.
It is something exaggeratedly French.
 
From Nice Hat. Thanks. copyright © 2002 by Joshua Beckman and Matthew Rohrer. Reprinted by permission of Wave Books.

Poems by This Author

After Catullus by Matthew Rohrer
If you, Tom, could see this inflight video map
Credo by Matthew Rohrer
I believe there is something else
Epithalamium by Matthew Rohrer
In the middle garden is the secret wedding
Garden of Bees by Matthew Rohrer
The narcissus grows past
Monkeys by Matthew Rohrer and Joshua Beckman
In another jungle the monkeys fret
Moss Retains Moisture by Matthew Rohrer and Joshua Beckman
Pavilion of Leaves by Matthew Rohrer
Central Park in a
Poem by Matthew Rohrer
You called, you’re on the train, on Sunday
Ski Lift to Death! by Matthew Rohrer
It was a basement with its own basement,
The Emperor by Matthew Rohrer
She sends me a text
venus waning/apollo waxing his car by Matthew Rohrer
Then there was the night I decided that if I ignored everyone
will the red hand throw me? by Matthew Rohrer
Though our radiator is painted the color of the walls


Further Reading

Related Poems
Monkeys
by Matthew Rohrer and Joshua Beckman
Automatic Teller Machine
by Ben Mirov
Moss Retains Moisture
by Matthew Rohrer and Joshua Beckman