Are You Seeing Your Own Death and Selling It to Me?

you lie on your back
arms close to your sides
the body as a card run through the slit of the EFTPOS machine
and stopped
rubbed off on a coin or two a set of eyes lingering underneath
when you move them you can feel the iris brush against the profile of Queen Elizabeth
or a native bird
it costs actual material money to change these symbols
it costs actual material money to make actual material money valid and invalid
what does a banker fall asleep thinking about?
hand wrapped around notes stuffed between the mattress and the bed frame
you’re lying next to that body and feel bad
for thinking about ways to kill yourself and/or him
who voted for this system of profit
no one voted on the voting system
you think about dragging his sleeping body to the balcony
he sleeps like the dead
so fat chance of him waking
throw him from the second floor
but you second-guess yourself
not because you don’t think you could do it
you’re not sure the drop would do it
you take the gold from your lids
place it on the bedside table