High on the hog
Here I sit, high
and fat as a parliament
nobody cares for.
An ordinary night.
My head full of money, I eat
bread and cheese.
Poems on the topic: money
Poems on the topic “money” on Poets.by.
Down and out
Broke, I look for a cell.
A brave press of confidence could gin me—
ice in an oven.
I drink and talk.
Economy
In the red, I eat as little as I can
of old candle.
See how they come to double
the price of things.
I am troubled
with a secret dispute:
who I will marry
and in which ink.
Purchase
I carry a private trouble on a walk:
a new coin, good in the stamp
and bad in the money.
I have my dinner with it—
hard and cold.
Fishy
I take the king’s picture
and make it speak:
Pay me in kindness.
A lamb is not glad
to fetch money.
Even our accounts
with wine and anchovies.
Sad Money
I had sad money
and a din of debts all night,
things that come to wait:
the sun on ice,
a pretend home on foot.
Mr. Hater
Mr. Hater and I
go forth to the city
and get money by bringing
all business into our hands.
I walk in the park
giving light in my way,
which put me
into despair.
Sweet By-and-By
where some hope of getting money
where the stairs would not end
where we enter the hill
where my wife hunts for bread.
Owned
As a tavern with my money
or will and a bull,
winter had the oak.
Dreaming in Church
At sermon, I doze.
I remember a large man of small mien
who told me my convulsions gave
great contentment to the Lord.
I look over my accounts
and find a sea in my purse.
Plenty of Nothing
To play
and gain
and own
no money
exceeding
merry
I sing
Banking
I put a hat on
for the flock.
They go so high
that others fall,
so high that they
deceive, and I am
so low that I am not
able to escape,
my troubled hopes
made even with
my money.
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