Are You Seeing Your Own Death and Selling It to Me?

you lie on your back

arms close to your sides

the body as a card run through the slit of the EFTPOS machine

and stopped

rubbed off on a coin or two a set of eyes lingering underneath

when you move them you can feel the iris brush against the profile of Queen Elizabeth

or a native bird

it costs actual material money to change these symbols

it costs actual material money to make actual material money valid and invalid

what does a banker fall asleep thinking about?

hand wrapped around notes stuffed between the mattress and the bed frame

you’re lying next to that body and feel bad

for thinking about ways to kill yourself and/or him

who voted for this system of profit

no one voted on the voting system

you think about dragging his sleeping body to the balcony

he sleeps like the dead

so fat chance of him waking

throw him from the second floor

but you second-guess yourself

not because you don’t think you could do it

you’re not sure the drop would do it

you take the gold from your lids

place it on the bedside table