if any-any

thoughts were pennies,

you bet I’d think a lot,

& Sparkletts jars,

would board this bard,

just on second thoughts.

If nickels rained,

for every bane,

that finds itself repeating,

I’d play the slots–

*4-nickel pots*

because I’m kind of greedy.

If dropping dimes,

amassed in time,

I’d gladly be the fodder

with secrets told,

I’d roll like gold–

those dimes until they’re dollars.

Yes, at all costs,

I’d balance books,

and turn clichés around…

with bottom dollar,

& prudence proper,

& pennies for a pound.

©Karen Robiscoe