Some Coin

Inside, she was hendecagonic.
Outside, smoothed to suit the editors
of commerce. Vending machines

would choke. The slaughterhouse
of silver made for speed, the scratch
would leave, ending the usefulness

of sodapop, you lars. Slippers
of chutes behave rightly;
the edgy are unpopular. Complete

penetration was the key.
Articulate doll or inconsequential
roughian—one produces;

the other, a nanny goat,
a dollar turned to trinket.
Dear Susan, your set

of circumstances yielded fixed
and predictable revolutions.
No one sues an inherently rigid

pocket.

Copyright © 2008 C.J. Sage All rights reserved
from Bateau
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission