our lord does not ask for interest rates from poor people

after you put in a coin in order to get the wheeled basket at the supermarket
you buy shoe polish nail polish floor polish in order to make everything shine
you leave a few coins in the transparent charity box where there are only a few notes
and you offer your child some chocolate pennies wrapped in tinfoil

the man-child too plays with fire
he re-raises the bet for his electronic poker game
coins with two faces like Janus the god who became a dote like some elders do
or like the people who are said to have a double-faced brain after surgery

close to the graveyard’s gate the cortege stops and the widow throws coins
others too are throwing coins for the place in the hereafter world
in order to make them fall head or tails
or rarely perfectly on their edges if the ground is fair and even

someday someone will smash the piggy bank and will throw away all the old coins
into charmed wells for unconscious deep wishes
into the clear water that washes everything apart from sins

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Categories: My poems in 2016 | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

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