A woman sits in a cage-like booth, likely a cashier’s or teller’s station, while dollars pour in through a tube and slide under her fingers all day. The work feels mechanical and repetitive. Some days, touching all that paper and silver is almost fun; other days it turns strange and heavy. The dollars start to sound like a sob or a whisper, carrying thoughts of what they could buy or mean: a rose in her hair, silk at her throat. Those images feel dreamy and intimate, as if money speaks to her about beauty and escape. The mood is restless and confined, mixing boredom with longing. She is surrounded by wealth but separated from it, locked in a routine that isn’t really hers.
Girl in a Cage — Summary
Here in a cage the dollars come down. To the click of a tube the dollars tumble. And out of a mouth the dollars run, I finger the dollars, Paper and silver, Thousands a day.
Some days it's fun to finger the dollars. Some days . . . the dollars keep on in a sob or a whisper : A flame of rose in the hair, A flame of silk at the throat.