Essays Poems Opera Interviews Money Money is a kind of poetry. Chock it up, fork it over, shell it out. Watch it burn holes through pockets. Greenbacks, double eagles, megabucks and Ginnie Maes. It greases the palm, feathers a nest, holds heads above water, makes both ends meet.
Money breeds money.
Gathering interest, compounding daily. Always in circulation. You don't know where it's been, but you put it where your mouth is. And it talks.