from the size of a quarter to nearly
touching top and bottom of the bill
or even exceeding the edges--
windswept powdered wig myths
so too the balloon of currency
expands as each proprietor
forfeits more territory becoming a point
on the thinly stretched membrane of economy
inverse dustbowl money munitions
when I read in god we trust
i ask which god and who are we?
franklin tells me in linen whispers:
our god is the dollar
and we are the bills
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