|
Paper Money |
sour creatures
with presidential faces
and green behinds,
flat on all-fours,
soliciting,
dragging fingers
into old buildings
under latin phrases,
between pylons like lewd teats.
who knows what's happening
behind greengray
paper walls,
which mottos are abused
to cloak what orgies-
gold thighs,
jowled dresses,
circus bread-
which illusions
weave what humans into banks,
make them beg for more
of these little sheets
hard to hide under,
easy to masturbate.
copyright 2009
Chris
Crittenden |
