what a sad little joke it is
for a bank teller to barely hang on.
come see, the first of the month
in his eyes is a boiling storm

the hurricane winds of irony
carve wrinkles into his face
as he rests politely behind his register
like a porn cameraman's assistant

the security guard has his gun
the angry black lady has her extra large purse
the skinny blond college girl has her lipstick
and me, i have my drinking problem (and solution)

what does he have?
except immense skyscraper stacks of hundred dollar bills
enough to give a mortal man chills
if not for the eye of god forever watching