Lori thought about setting all her money on fire
since money was the root of all evil.
She stopped herself just before the wooden match
hit the abrasive striker strip.
Lori knew money was a representative place holder
commonly accepted through trust
that it held an agreed upon designated value
even though the paper was the same size, color and shape.
It was not the cash that was evil
but the people who exploited labor
and the disproportionate wealth
that gravitated to the few through ownership.
It was the rule-makers who were evil
no matter how much they donated to five-oh-one-C-threes.
Donations were a shiny trinket to dangle
in front of their peer group to impress their goodness
while the hoi polloi earned
survival wages and returned at night to the slums.
Lori clothes pinned her money to a line
as the highly flammable vapors rose skyward.
copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney
Umflop 