Today I am throwing old checks away
That lay in a shoebox five years, fearing audit.
They're free—free, at last, to burn or decay.
Money still talks, but her ghouls simply say,
"Something was sold at a price and you bought it."
Today I am throwing old checks away.
Each bears its signature; year, month & day;
And pays to the order of Mammon: due profit.
They're free—free, at last, to burn or decay.
Here's one for Sears; here's one for ballet;
Airfare to Rome; a homeless benefit.
Today I am throwing old checks away,
Saying "Ciao!" to old wolves they kept at bay
While they tended our credit and fed it bit by bit.
They're free—free, at last, to burn or decay.
I crumple the papered past. I murmur, "Hurray."
It's my shredder now must reconcile chit, chit, chit.
Today I am throwing old checks away.
They're free—free, at last, to burn or decay.
From Heavy Lifting (Alehouse Press, 2007).
Used here with the author's permission.
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