Money
       

The day I need pockets, I will refuse
them because I am a rebel.

Now I don't have them simply
by virtue of condition. Now it is life

that frees me from them. I move around
and snap up crumbs and bugs

on the sand. Life is free.
Life passes the bill to others.

Just look at them, look how they shake
off the sea. How they dry it with towels

that are thick and costly. In a little while
it would have evaporated, but it is better

to dry off this way so the towel knows
that it cannot live without them.

And look at those suits. Every week
they come with different attire.

And those creams. And those iceboxes
filled with foods and little bottles.

The world fits in a pocket, was born there.
Their world, that is. My pocket is the beach.

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Copyright © 2015 Ricardo Pau-Llosa All rights reserved
from Ninth Letter
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission