Money

Finally, a little money.

It flies at me,

but flies away swiftly:

a punch I see approaching,

dodge by lowering, bowing,

but not bowing down.

For a short time I'll

snicker, though permanent

only as long as the

"whoosh" past my ears.

Then, lack of sound,

begging for another blow.

If I’m lucky it will recur,

lasting long enough

to profit from the pain.

01/31/02