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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