The Final Morbidity of the Interior Embezzler

It may seem morbid of an embezzler to keep a memorandum, yet many of them do. It may be mere neatness.
-Wallace Stevens, "Surety and Fidelity Claims"

I've made a little sluice-gate in the flow
of cash across the spreadsheet on my screen.
Amid torrential chaos and foreseen
disasters it maintains its small and slow
on-off diversions, so my work can show
the delicacy of difference between
the beans I count and one uncounted bean,
and where the latter might invisibly go.

The hollowed shoe-tree, the hermetic jar
are gadgetry I might revert to yet.
There is the money of the thing, the far
secure retirement years, the deep-hedged bet,
but I love working where the unknowns are,
and writing down what I need to forget.

More Poems by Henry Taylor