Money is the Thing With Feathers

I wake to money, and take my money slow
I watched for money, lights turned low
One must have a mind of money . . .
Money that is not there and the money that is
The art of money isn't hard to master
. . . The money surrounds us . . .
Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet money
Money on a wet, black bough
Do not go gentle into that good money
The pure products of money go crazy
Money sweeping out from us to disappear
Oh Money! My Money! our fearful trip is done
I myself will die without money
Money, Money, you bastard, I'm through.

Susan Firer, "Money is the Thing With Feathers " from The Transit of Venus.  Copyright © 2016 by Susan Firer.  Reprinted by permission of The Backwaters Press.
Source: The Transit of Venus (Backwaters Press, 2016)
More Poems by Susan Firer